would find between two coats, one of which was bought
ready-made, while the other, after being cut according to the proportions
of the one who is to wear it, was sewed by a workman to whom all the
resources of his art are known."

If impulses adopt the same character for every one, common sense adapts
itself to the mind, to the sensitiveness, to the worth of him who
practises it; it is a garment which is adjusted to the proportions of its
owner, and, according to his taste, is elaborate or simple.

Certain people have a tendency to confound intuition and impulse.

These two things, really very different in essence, are only related by
spontaneity of thought which gives them birth.

But whereas intuition, a sensation altogether moral, concisely stated, is
composed of mental speculations, impulses always resolve themselves into
acts and resolutions to act.

Intuition is a sort of obscure revelation, which reason controls only
after its formation.

Impulse never engages common sense in the achievements which it
realizes. It never decides upon them in advance, and almost always
engenders regrets.

It is the result of a defeat in self-control, which will-power and the
power of reasoning alone can correct.

Intuition is less spontaneous than impulse.

It is a very brief mental operation, but, nevertheless, very real, which,
very indistinctly, touches lightly all the phases of reasoning, in order
to reach a conclusion so rapidly that he who conceives it has difficulty
in making the transformations of the initial thought intelligible.

It is none the less true that intuition is always inspired by a predicted
reflection, but, in spite of this fact, an existing reflection.

Impulse, on the contrary, only admits instinct as its source of
existence.

It is the avowed enemy of common sense, which counsels the escape from
exterior insinuations that one may concentrate, in order to listen to the
voice which dictates to us the abstinence from doing anything until after
making a complete analysis of the cause which agitates us.

Some philosophers have sought to rank inspiration under the flag of
impulse, which they thought to defend; yes, even to recover esteem under
this new form.

"We should know how to stand on guard," says Yoritomo, "against this
fatal error."

"Inspiration," says he, "is rarely immobilized under the traits which
characterized its first appearance.

"Before expressing itself in a work of art or o