Miscellaneous Thoughts

Abstract

Scattered fragments not fitting the major sections: reflections on man’s inconstancy and vanity, on the primacy of custom and habit (choosing the eldest son as king), on the relations of reason and passion, and on the sound opinions of the people.

Traduzione di George Pearce · Delphi Classics, 2000 · pubblico dominio

I. + M. de Roannez once remarked:— “Reasons occur to me afterwards; but, in the first instance, one thing pleases or displeases me, without my being conscious of the reason; and another displeases me, for a reason which I do not discover till afterwards.” I believe, however, not that the displeasure is felt for the reasons which occur to us afterwards, but that the reasons are discovered, only because the displeasure has been felt. [Second MS. Collection of P. Guerrier, p. 192.]

II. + When passion urges to an action, we are forgetful of duty. Our inclinations lead us, for instance, to read a certain book, and we read it, when we ought to be otherwise employed. Now, to correct this, we should purpose to ourselves to do something we dislike; and then we shall excuse ourselves, on the ground that we have something else to do; by this means we shall recall ourselves to our duty.

III. + The most irrational things in worldly affairs often become, through the evil tendencies of man, the most reasonable. What is there less reasonable, than to choose for the governor of a kingdom, the eldest son of a sovereign? We do not select for captain of a ship, the sailor of highest birth; such a rule would be improvident and ridiculous. But, because the nature of things is, and will ever remain such, it becomes reasonable and just; for who should be selected? The most virtuous, the ablest? Here we are at once at issue; every one pretends to be the most virtuous, and the most able. Let us then, we say, attach the pre-eminence to something that admits of no dispute. It must be the eldest son of the sovereign. There, our course is clear; there can be no contest upon that point. Reason can devise nothing better; for civil wars are the greatest of all evils. [MSS. of Biblioth. Roy., portfolios of Dr. Valiant Nicole, in his work on the “Education of a Prince,” has given, with some modification, part of these sentiments of Pascal, which, however, in their present state, are now published for the first time. The ordinary editions of the “Pensées” give only these lines:—” We do not choose for captain of a ship, that one among the sailors who is of the highest birth.” This remark, which in former editions has been appended to a passage with which it has no connexion, appears again in the MS., written in Pascal’s hand, in the form of an isolated note.]

IV. The power of sovereigns is founded both on the reason, and on the folly, of their people; but much the most on their folly. The greatest and most important things in the world are based in weakness; and this basis is admirably secure; for nothing is more certain than this, that the people will ever be weak. That foundation which consists in the soundness of their reason, and an opinion of their wisdom, is an unstable one.

The greatest of calamities is civil war. It is sure to befall, if an attempt is made to elevate merit only; for all will say they are deserving. The evil to be apprehended from a fool who succeeds by right of birth, is not so great, or so certain.

For a man to be handsomely dressed, is not a mere vanity; for it proves that a number of persons are employed for him: he shows by his well-arranged hair, that he has a valet de chambre, a perfumer, &c., to attend him; his band shows the fineness of his linen, lace, &c.

Nor is it a mere matter of outside show and trapping, to carry various coats of arms.

• Numerous emblazonments are the indications of bravery. Thus a handsome appearance is a proof of superiority.

1st. To prefer amusements and the chase to imaginative reading. Half-instructed persons ridicule this, and pique themselves on proving from it the folly of the world; but, for a reason which they cannot discern, the preference is right.

2d. To pay distinction to men on external grounds, — such as nobility and wealth. The world affects triumphantly to prove the unreasonableness of this; but it is actually highly reasonable. [To this passage has been appended, by Pascal, the following note:—” Savages ridicule the idea of an infant king.” This has been evidently taken from a passage in “Montaigne’s Essays,” in which he relates, that three inhabitants of the New World, whom he calls “Cannibals,” came in his time to Rouen, and had a long interview with Charles IX., then an infant Some one asking them, what they had thought the most remarkable of all they saw at Rouen, they said, “ In the first place, they thought it very strange that so many great men, bearded, strong, and well armed, should be standing round the king, (they probably meant the Swiss Guard,) taking orders from an infant; and did not rather choose one of themselves for their, sovereign.” Essays, Book i., chap. 30.]

• 3d. To be offended at a blow; or to be greatly desirous of glory.

• Yet is all this very reasonable, on account of the other advantages connected with it; and a man who has received à blow, without showing his sense of it, is Overwhelmed with injuries and impositions. [It is very obvious, that in these passages Pascal is foregoing his habitual character of the Christian moralist; and, assuming the principles current in the world, lays down rules of conduct consistent with them. (Transl.)]

• 4th. To labour for uncertainties; — to walk upon the sea; — and to traverse a plank.

VIII. Man is necessarily so much of a fool, that it would be a species of folly not to be a fool.

IX. + The world judges many things; for it is the ignorance of its natural state that forms the true tribunal of man.

Knowledge has two extremes which meet; the one is that pure natural ignorance, in which all are born; the other is that which is experienced by minds of the highest order. After traversing the whole circle, of human attainments, they find that they know nothing; and end in the same ignorance in which they set out. But it is the ignorance of learning only, that knows itself to be ignorant. Those who occupy an intermediate place, — who have just emerged from their natural ignorance, and yet not attained to that of learning, — possess a sort of smattering of knowledge, and are looked upon as clever. These are the people that keep the world in commotion, and blunder in everything. They, and the common people, constitute the great bulk of mankind. They despise the latter, and are despised by them in their turn. They are erroneous in their judgments of everything, and the world is right in its judgment of them.

(On the reverse leaf of this last fragment, is written the following passage on Descartes’ system of the world.) [Although this remark of Pascal may seem to be directed against the entire philosophy of Descartes, it is evident that it is specially suggested by the Sd Part of the “Principia Philosophise” entitled “de Mundo adspectabili” At page 415 of the MS. Autog., there are these detached expressions:—” Descartes, unprofitable and variable.”]

We are then, in substance, to say, that is produced by figure and motion; and that is true. But to say these things, {quels) and then compose the machine, is absurd; for it is useless, uncertain, and painful. And even were it true, we hold that all the philosophy in the world does not avail against an hour of suffering.

[We must be permitted a few remarks upon this passage, on account of the contradictory comments of which it has been the subject: —

1st. No one before ourselves had any knowledge of it, but through the two copies. We discovered it in the autograph MS., in clearing away part of the sheet of very thick paper with which it was covered, and which concealed it entirely from view.

2d. It is written very hastily, and bears the appearance of a mere rough note; it is afterwards erased, not subsequently and by another hand, but evidently by the hand and pen of Pascal.

3d. The two copies, which are both alike, agree also with the MS., excepting the word “quelle,” which in the copies is erroneously substituted for “quels,” &c. (French Editor.)

More phlegmatic natures might almost envy the pleasure which M. Faugère must have felt in the discovery of these unknown passages, and the zeal with which he defends his priority of acquisition. (Transl.)]

X. The habit of seeing sovereigns surrounded by guards, music, officers of state, and all those things which mechanically challenge respect and fear, inspires their subjects with reverence and dread, even when they axe seen alone, and without these accompaniments; because our thoughts naturally connect these customary appendages with their persons. And the world, not knowing that this is the mere effect of custom, supposes that it originates in some inherent force possessed by them; whence comes the expression, “ There is divinity stamped upon the countenance,” &c.

XI. The bonds which preserve distinction and respect between men, are necessary: there must be degrees of rank in society; — all being desirous of pre-eminence, all not being able to enjoy it, and yet some succeeding in obtaining it.

• Let us carry our thoughts back to the first formation of these bonds. Men would doubtless fight, till the stronger prevailed over the weak; and then one party would gain the ascendency. But when that was once settled, the rulers, desiring that wars should cease, would ordain that the power they had themselves acquired, should devolve to others according to men’s pleasure; some would remit it to popular election, some to hereditary succession, &c.

• Then it is that imagination begins her part: hitherto force had done all; now force is aided in a measure by fancy; — in France it is aristocracy, in Switzerland the burgesses, &c.

These bonds, then, which maintain distinction towards one and another, are, in reality, those of the imagination.

XII. + The mighty efforts which the human mind sometimes puts forth, are not usually long sustained. It reaches the unwonted elevation, but holds it only for a moment; it does not maintain it, as a throne, for ever. [Montaigne, Book ii., beginning of ch. 29. “ We sometimes feel our minds roused by the discourse or example of others far beyond their ordinary pitch.”]

XIII. Man is neither an angel nor a beast: and the misfortune is, that those who seek to become angels become beasts, [Pascal says elsewhere of man, “ He is neither angel nor beast, but man,” MS., p. 120. Montaigne also has remarked, “They wish to get from among men, and escape from humanity. It is a folly: instead of transforming themselves into angels, they become beasts.” Essays, Book iii., last chap.]

XIV. + When good qualities are carried to an extreme, there are, on either side, almost an endless number of evil ones which insinuate themselves insensibly; and there are others, which crowd our way in multitudes; so that we lose ourselves in the evil qualities, and the virtues wholly disappear.

XV. How proper is it that men should hold their distinctions by external, rather than internal qualifications! Which of us is to take precedence of the other? Who is to yield his place? The least clever? I am as clever as he. Then we must fight for it. He has four lackeys, and I have but one; that is obvious to all; you have but to count them. Then it is for me to yield, and I am a fool to contest the point. Thus we keep the peace towards each other; and that is one of the greatest of all blessings. [This passage, which has been published from the first as Pascal’s, is not found in the autograph MS., or the two copies, although it is universally believed to be his. At page 79 of the MS. only is found this isolated note, … “ he has four lackeys.”]

XVI. There is this great advantage in rank, that it puts a man forward in society, and affords him opportunities of acquiring knowledge and consideration, from the age of eighteen or twenty; all which other men can scarcely attain before they are fifty: it is thirty years gained, without trouble.

XVII. External ceremony consists in this, — to put ourselves to inconvenience for others. This appears a vanity, but it is, in reality, a thing well founded; it is as much as to say, “I would willingly inconvenience myself, if it were necessary, for you; since I do so when it can do you no service. Besides this, deference is the mark by which we distinguish the great. Now if our consideration were to cost us no trouble, we should yield it to every one alike; and then there would be no distinctions in society: but by putting ourselves out of our way for such things, we mark these distinctions.

XVIII. The Swiss dislike the term gentry; and confer their high offices upon persons of the lowest birth.

XIX. + See the power of a fly. It gains battles; impedes the activity of the mind; devours our bodies!

XX. Cromwell was overrunning all Christendom: the royal family would have been destroyed, and his own permanently established, but for a grain of sand in his interior. Rome herself was trembling before him. But there was the little stone: he dies; his family sinks; peace is restored, and the king re-established!

XXI. Strange perversity of judgment! There is not a person in the world who does not prefer himself, and his own happiness, and the preservation of his happiness, and of his life, to that of all the whole world besides.

XXII. + There axe two sorts of persons who confound the distinctions between things, such as between festivals and working-days, Christians and priests, various kinds of sins, &c. Thence, the one sort conclude that what is wrong in ecclesiastics is equally so in ordinary Christians; and the other, that what is not wrong in Christians in general is allowable in ecclesiastics.

XXIII. The highest order of minds are most capable of perceiving originality of character. Ordinary ones see little difference between one person and another.

“This dog is mine” you hear poor children say: “That is my place in the sunshine there is the commencement and type of usurpation throughout the world.

XXV. It is curious to observe, that there are people who will renounce every law of God and nature, and yet will make laws for themselves, to which they pay implicit obedience: as, for instance, the brigands of Mahomet, robbers, heretics, &c.; aye, and logicians also. + One might suppose that the license of such persons would be unbounded, seeing they have freed themselves from such just and salutary restraints. [This is in Madame Perier’s hand-writing.]

XXVI. When it is debated whether we ought to make war, and destroy such a number of men, — thus condemning so many Spaniards to death, — it is one individual only that constitutes himself judge, and he an interested one: there ought to be a third, and a disinterested party. [It was then a matter of much public comment how lightly a war against Spain had been decided in council.]

XXVII. Inequality of condition among men is necessary. True: but, granting this, see how you open the door not only to supremacy of sway, but also to the highest degree of tyranny!

The mind requires occasional relaxation; but that opens, again, the door to the greatest excesses.

We must endeavour ourselves to put due limits to these things. In themselves there are none: law endeavours to fix such limits, but the mind will not endure them.

XXVIII. The great and the humble experience the same accidents, the same disquiets, the same passions; but the one are at the top of the wheel, and the other near the centre, and, therefore, are less agitated by the same revolutions.

XXIX. Who that had enjoyed the friendship of the Kings of England and Poland, and the Queen of Sweden, would have believed that the time would come when they would not find a retreat and shelter throughout the world? [Pascal, no doubt, here alludes to Charles I. of England, driven into the Isle of Wight, in 1647; to John Casimir, king of Poland, compelled to seek an asylum in Silesia, in 1655; and lastly, to Queen Christina, who abdicated her throne in 1654.]

There are various bodies of brave, of handsome, of witty, or of pious persons, each of which has its own sphere and rule, but none elsewhere: they sometimes encounter; and the brave and the handsome contend for mastery, — for their superiority is of a different nature. They can come to no agreement: and their error is, that each is determined to get the upper hand. Neither party succeeds, even by force; that avails them nothing with the wise, and can do no more than control the mere outward conduct.

Such language, then, as this, is indecent and tyrannical:—” I am handsome, I ought to be feared. I am brave, I ought to be beloved. I am”…

Tyranny consists in aiming to get in one way what we can only properly get by a different one. We pay various degrees of deference to various kinds of merit: the deference of affection, to amiableness; the deference of fear, to force; the deference of implicit submission, to learning.

This deference ought to be yielded; it is an injustice to withhold it, and an injustice to demand one kind in the place of another. It is equally offensive and perverse to say, “ Such a one is not brave, I will not esteem him; he is wanting in ability, therefore I will not fear him.”

• Theology is a science; but, after all, what are sciences? A man is an instrument; but, when you anatomize it, do you find it to consist in his head, his heart, the stomach, the veins, each individual vein, each part of a vein, the blood, each of the humours of the blood?

• Town and country, from a distance, appear town and country; but as we approach we find houses, trees, roofs, leaves, flowers, insects, the separate limbs of insects, in infinite number. All these are included under the term country.

XXXIII. + Diversity is so endless, that every ones gait, tones of voice, cough, sneeze… Fruits are distinguished; among grapes are the Muscats, those of Coindrieu, of Desargues, and of Cette. Furthermore, have these several places ever produced similar grapes, and has any one grape two seeds like each other? &c.

XXXIV. How many objects has the telescope discovered, which philosophy had never conceived of before? We should absurdly misinterpret the expressions of Scripture, as to the vast number of the stars, by saying “There are but a thousand and twenty-two; we are sure of it.”

XXXV. + There are herbs upon the face of the earth; we see them ourselves. On the moon we can discern none. And on these herbs there are leaves, and on the leaves insects; but beyond this nothing more? O rash presumption! Mixed substances, then, are composed of elements, and the elements not! Presumption again! See here a nice distinction: we must not speak of things that are not visible to the eye; let us talk like other people, but not think like them.

XXXVI. Time heals our griefs and our dissensions, because we change and are no longer the same persons; neither the offenders nor the offended are alike. It is as if we should encounter a people that we have irritated after the lapse of two generations. They are French, but not the same Frenchmen.

XXXVII. + It is not only that we see things under a different aspect, but with different eyes; we no longer care to find them alike.

XXXVIII. + Such a person no longer admires her whom he loved ten years ago. I doubt it not. She is no longer the same, nor he either. He was then young, and she also; she is now otherwise. Were she the same, he would perhaps admire her still.

• We fancy we may play upon man as we touch an instrument. He is an instrument indeed, but how irregular, capricious, inconstant; how full of discords! In doing it, we ought to know where are the…[The remainder of this passage is wanting. (French Editor.) This fragmentary remark will remind the reader of the passage in Hamlet: “There is much music, excellent voice in this little organ; yet cannot you make it speak? Why do you think that I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will; though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.” — Act S, Sc. 7. (Transl.)]

Things possess various qualities, and the mind has various inclinations; for, nothing presents itself in a simple form to the mind; and the mind never applies itself simply to any object. Thence it happens, that we sometimes weep and smile for the same thing.

XLI. Our feeling of the emptiness of present pleasures, and our unconsciousness of the vanity of those which are absent, are the causes of our inconstancy of mind.

XLII. The capability of a man’s virtue ought not to be judged by extraordinary efforts, but by his habitual conduct.

XLIII. I have little admiration for an extraordinary measure of one virtue, such as bravery; unless I see at the same time an equally extraordinary measure of the opposite one; as in Epaminondas, who possessed great valour and great humanity likewise; otherwise it is not elevation, but rather a baseness of character. Greatness is not displayed by an extreme degree of one quality only, but by a combination of opposing ones, and by the harmony of all, one with another.

But, perhaps, this may be only a sudden movement of the spirit in one or other of the extremes, like the hasty blaze of a bonfire. Be it so; yet this at least shows a capability in the soul, if not greatness.

XLIV. Those addicted to irregularities charge the correct with deviating from nature, and say it is only themselves who follow her; as those on board a vessel fancy the persons on shore are receding from them: the same kind of language is heard on all sides. There must be some fixed standard of judgment. Those on shore judge those in the vessel; but where are we to have a fixed point in morals?

XLV. When all moves together, nothing appears to move; as in a vessel. When all fall into irregularities, none seem to go wrong. It is he who stands still that perceives, as from a fixed station, the deviations of others.

XLVI. Evil is common, and its forms are infinite; virtue is rare. But there is a species of evil, which is as difficult to be met with as what is called good; and that particular kind of evil, on this account, often passes for good. It needs a kind of especial greatness of mind to attain to it, as well as to that which is good.

XLVII. + The act of sneezing shall be seen to absorb a person as much as his ordinary occupation. But we do not draw from it the same inferences against the greatness of his nature, because it is involuntary; and even if he fall into it by an act of his own, it is still against his will; the act that caused it was done not for that purpose, but for another; and thus it is not to be regarded as a mark of the feebleness and abjectness of man.

• It is no disgrace to a man to yield to sorrow; but it is disgraceful to yield to voluptuousness. This is not because sorrow comes upon us from external sources, and pleasure is of our own seeking; for we may purposely seek causes of grief, and sink under them, without this species of degradation. Whence is it, then, that it is noble to sink under sorrow, and disgraceful to be subdued by pleasure? It is, that sorrow does not attract and tempt us. It is, that we voluntarily choose it, and put ourselves under its yoke, while we possess a liberty of choice; and thus man yields, as it were, to himself: but in the case of pleasure, it is the man who is overcome by pleasure. Now it is mastery and sway that constitute glory, and subjection alone is disgrace.

XLVIII. When we are well, we wonder what we should do if we were sick; when we are sick, however, we use remedies cheerfully; our sufferings compel us. We have no longer any inclination for those exercises and amusements to which health prompted us, but which are incompatible with the pressure of infirmity. Nature then suggests tastes and inclinations suited to our present circumstances. It is only the fears that ourselves indulge, and not nature inspires, which cause us uneasiness; because they add to the circumstances in which we actually are, the feelings belonging to the circumstances in which we are not.

XLIX. We are so ill-constituted that we cannot take an interest in anything, without becoming disturbed if unsuccessful; — a result which a hundred circumstances may at any time bring about. Whoever finds the secret of taking satisfaction in good, without uneasiness at disappointment, has made a great achievement. + It is a kind of perpetual motion.

L. + Those who are always sanguine under adverse circumstances, and elated in prosperous conjunctures, if they do not suffer equal distress at untoward ones, are wont to be pleased under disappointment, and glad to discover grounds of hope, in order to show their continued buoyancy of spirit; and to cover, by the satisfaction they thus feign, that which they experience, from seeing the frustration of their affairs.

LII. + Marton perceives plainly enough, that our nature is corrupt, and man is fallen from virtue; but he does not perceive why he cannot rise again.

LIII. Man is full of wants: he loves only those who can satisfy them. Such a one is a good mathematician, it may be said; but then I must work problems; he would turn me into a proposition. Another is a great warrior; he would take me for a besieged fortress. I want a facile disposition, that knows how to accommodate itself to all my necessities.

LIV. A true friend is so valuable, even for the great themselves to speak in their behalf, and defend them in their absence, that they should omit no effort to possess one. But let them take care to make a good choice; for if they get hold of a fool, he will be of no real service, whatever good he may say of them; and, in fact, he will say nothing that is good; for, possessing no weight of character, and carrying no authority, he will slander them to his boon companions for mere good fellowship.

LV. As the understanding may be injured, so may the opinions. We form both by our social intercourse; and thus society, whether good or bad, tends either to form or impair them. It is, then, above all things important, to choose such society whereby they may be formed, and not impaired; and the choice cannot be properly made, if they have not been already formed and not impaired. In this manner the whole forms a circle; happy those who can deviate from it without danger!

LVI. Though some persons have no interest in what they affirm, we must not be too certain that they do not speak untruths: there are those who lie for the mere love of lying.

LVII. A man stands at a window to see the passers-by: if I pass, am I to say, he stands there to see me? No; he is thinking nothing about me, in particular. Now, when a person loves a female on account of her beauty, does he really love her? No; the small-pox, which may destroy her beauty, but leave her alive, will destroy his love also.

And so, if I am loved for my judgment, or my memory, is it myself that am loved? No; I may lose these faculties; yet I myself shall remain. Where then is the individuality, if it lies neither in the body, nor in the mind? And how can we love either the body or the mind, but for those qualities which do not form the individuality; inasmuch as they are perishable? Can we love the mind of another abstractedly, and without reference to its qualities? That cannot be. We do not then love the person, but only the qualities.

• Let us then no longer ridicule those who affect distinction for their place and office; for no one is loved but on account of adventitious qualities.

LVIII. This “ me” is hateful. You, Miton, disguise it; you do not, however, thus get rid of it; you are therefore still hateful.

Not at all; for in behaving, as we do, civilly to every one, none have any cause to hate us. That is true, if we only hated, in the word, the annoyance which it occasions us.

But if I hate it because it is usurping, because it makes itself the centre of everything, I shall never cease to hate it.

In short, the word has two qualities; it is usurping in itself, as it makes itself the centre of everything; it is injurious to others, even in designing to do them service; for self is the enemy of every one, and would be a universal tyrant. You may take away the annoyance it causes, but not its injustice; and thus you do not render it pleasing to those who dislike injustice. You render it pleasing only to those who are unjust themselves, and therefore do not consider it their enemy; and thus you continue unjust yourself, and can please only those who are the same.

LIX. It is an injustice that others should be allowed to attach themselves to me, though for their own pleasure, and with entire free-will. I should deceive them in permitting such a partiality; I can be no object for any to rest in, and have nothing that can afford them satisfaction. Am I not shortly to die? Then the object of in the following passage:—” He (Desbarreaux) preaches Atheism wherever he goes; and one day, at St Cloud, he was passing the Passion-week with Miton, a great gambler, Potel, Counsellor of the Châtelet, Raineys, &c., to spend their carnival, as he said.” their pleasure will die also! As I should be culpable in suffering a falsehood to be believed, although it might be insinuated quietly, and told and received with satisfaction; in the same way am I culpable in suffering myself to become an object of attachment. If I attract the affection of others to myself, I ought to warn those who would make themselves parties to the deception, that they should be on their guard against it, whatever advantage might accrue to myself from it; and not attach themselves to me, when their life and their cares ought to be devoted to pleasing God, or seeking to do so. [This fragment presents the interesting feature, that it is in the handwriting of Domat, who has added the following note:—” Madame Perier has the original of this paper.” Madame Perier has reproduced the passage in her memoir of her brother.]

Knowledge of external things will not compensate my moral ignorance in a time of affliction; but moral proficiency will always afford me consolation under the absence of external knowledge.

LXI. I was for a long time immersed in the study of the abstract sciences, and became disgusted with the little communication that I could hold on such subjects with others. When I commenced the study of man, I saw that those abstract sciences are hot fitted for him; and that I departed further from my proper sphere, by my addictedness to them, than others in their ignorance of them; thus I excused them for knowing so little about these things. I thought, however, I should at least find companionship in the study of man, and that this was of all others the fittest for him. I was mistaken. There axe fewer who addict themselves to this study, than to geometry.

• It is only through want of taste for this study that we are thrown upon others; but is it not that, after all, this is not the knowledge that man ought to possess; and that it is more for his happiness to be ignorant of it?

LXII. + We are so ignorant of ourselves, that many think they are going to die when they are well, and many think they are well when they are near death; not perceiving the approach of an attack of fever, or that an abscess is beginning to form.

LXIII. The things to which we are most addicted, — such, for instance, as the careful concealment of narrowness of means, — are often very insignificant: a mere fancy, which our imagination magnifies into importance. Another turn of imagination reveals to us, in an instant, the fallacy.

LXIV. Imagination exaggerates petty objects, till they fill the mind in an extravagant degree; and, in the same way, with a rash presumption, she diminishes great objects, and brings them down to her own standard. This is seen in the manner of some, in speaking of the Supreme Being.

Fancies, with me, depend not upon weather. I have my storms and my sunshine within; the success or reverses of my affairs even, affect me little. I like to set myself against fortune; the very glory of overcoming her, elates me: and, on the other, hand, I sometimes feel depressed in the midst of prosperity.

When we see certain events always recurring alike, we conclude that they originate in a natural necessity; as that day will succeed day, &c.; but nature often deceives our expectations, and does not follow her own laws.

LXVII. The mind naturally inclines to some kind of belief, and the will to some kind of affections; so that, for want of proper objects, they are prone to attach themselves to such as are unfitting.

LXVIII. Grace will always be found in the world as well as nature, inasmuch as it is in a measure congenial to us. Thus there will always be Pelagians, and orthodox believers; and always conflicts going on between them.

It is the first birth that produces the one, and the second, the other.

LXIX. + Nature is ever recommencing the same things, — such as years, days, hours; spaces also, and numbers, follow uniformly each other. There is, by these means, formed a kind of infinitude and eternity. Not that any of these things are really infinite or eternal; but these finite things multiply themselves infinitely; thus it seems to me, it is only the number which multiplies them that is infinite.

LXX. + When we hear it said, that cold is only the motion of certain globules, and light the “conatus recedendi” [This is the “ centrifugal force.” Pascal has borrowed this expression from the definition of light, given by Descartes in his “Principia Philosophic,” Part iii., see. 55.] which we experience, we feel surprised. And pleasure, then, is only a kind of excitement of the animal spirits. We had certainly formed an entirely different idea of these things, and such opinions are wholly opposed to all our prepossessions. The feeling of warmth, a sensation that affects us so differently from the touch, — the perception of sound and of light, — all these seem mysteries; whereas those definitions are as gross and insensate as a stone. It is true, the minute influences which enter by the pores affect other nerves, but they are nerves still.

LXXI. + Nature has a tendency to reproduce herself. A grain thrown into good soil, multiplies. A principle planted in a sound understanding, yields fruit.

• Numbers resemble space, though in their nature they are so different.

• All are produced and directed by the same hand: the root, the branch, the fruit, the principle, the results.

LXXII. + Nature works progressively: “itus et reditus.” — She passes on and returns; then recedes further, then twice the space back, then further than ever, &c.

• The flow of the sea is in this form; the course of the sun is thus

Literally imitated from the MS.

• Fevers have their chills and burnings; and the cold fits show as much the violence of the fever as its heats.

• The inventiveness of man proceeds from age to age in the same course. — + The humanity and the malignity of the world is, at all times, much alike.

“Plerumque gratœ principibus vices.”

LXXIV. + After we have been accustomed to use bad reasons for establishing the phenomena of nature, we become unwilling to admit good ones, when they are furnished to us. The instance given was, the circulation of blood, to show why the vein swells under the ligature.

— + The history of the pike and the frog of Liancour. They always give this, and nothing else.

LXXV. + If an animal performed by reason what it does instinctively, and could utter by means of intelligence what it expresses by instinct, for summoning its comrades to the chase, and warning them that their prey is found at last, it would be able to speak in matters of more importance to itself: as, for instance, to say, “Bite for me this cord that hurts me, and which I cannot reach.”

Animals have no affections. A horse feels no admiration for its companions. There is an emulation between them on the race-course, but it leads to no results; when they are in the stable, the dull and ill-made horse does not give up its oats to the other, as men require their fellows to do. They have no thought but for themselves.

• From early infancy, admiration spoils everything. “How well that was said! how well that was done! how clever he is!” &c.

• The children at P. R., (Port Royal,) who are not allowed this incentive to envy and emulation, fall into indifference.

LXXVIII. Have you never met with persons, who, by way of reflection upon your moderate opinion of them, are fond of descanting upon the number of people of distinction who admire them? I should reply to all this, “Show me what are the merits that have procured you their admiration, and I will admire you myself.”

LXXX. To pity the unfortunate is not opposed to self-love, but the contrary: persons are well pleased to have the opportunity of showing this mark of humanity, and of gaining the reputation of tenderness at no expense.

LXXXI. Great actions concealed, are most to be admired. When I meet with such in history, as at page 184, [This passage is not in Pascal’s writing. The person to whom it was dictated, no doubt omitted to note the book whence page 184 is here quoted: it is, in all probability, Montaigne’s Essays.] I am greatly delighted. Yet, after all, they have not been effectually concealed, since by some means or other, they have become known; and although all that was possible was done by the parties to hide them, this little outlet by which they have come to light, spoils all: the finest part of all was the wish to conceal them.

LXXXII. The world is in possession of every good principle; it fails only in their application. For instance, no one doubts that we ought to expose our life for the public good, and many do it; but for religion, none!

LXXXIII. It is only the contest that gives pleasure, not the victory. We like to see animals fight, but not the conqueror destroy the conquered. What should we care for, except the end — the victory? And yet, as soon as that is attained, we are wearied. So it is in gaming, so in researches after truth. We like to watch the conflict of opinions, but when truth is demonstrated, our interest is gone. To revive our interest, new controversies must be created.

So with the passions: there is a pleasure in seeing two opposite ones in contention; but when one has the entire mastery, it becomes mere brutality.

It is not things themselves, but the pursuit of things, that we value. Thus, in plays, quiet scenes without agitation excite no interest, or misery without hope, or brutal passion, or unmitigated severity.

LXXXIV. See the vanity of the art of painting! To challenge admiration, by fidelity of resemblance to things for whose originals we have none.

LXXXV. Two countenances resembling each other, neither of which, when seen alone, causes ridicule, become laughable when brought together.

LXXXVII. There are many who understand the sermon just to as good purpose as they understand the prayers.

LXXXVIII. A dealer in jests, a miserable character.

LXXXIX. + Experience shows us an enormous difference between devotion and goodness. [Montaigne says somewhere the same thing:—” Entre la dévotion et la bonté”]

XC. Discourses upon humility are occasions of pride to the vain, and of humiliation to the humble. So, those upon pyrrhonism are matter of peremptoriness to the peremptory. Few speak humbly upon humility; few chastely upon chastity; few upon pyrrhonism in a spirit of doubt. We are made up of falsehood, duplicity, inconsistency; and we hide and disguise these things from ourselves!

• The cause and the effect of love. — Cleopatra.

Whoever would fully learn the vanity of man, has but to consider the causes and the consequences of love. The cause is, perhaps, some indescribable trifle, “un je ne sais quoi,” (Corneille,) and the consequences are tremendous. This trifle, this thing so insignificant that we cannot define it, moves the earth, its potentates, its armies, the whole universe!

Had Cleopatra’s nose been a little shorter, the whole face of the world might have been changed.

Wonderful indeed is it to see a thing so palpable as the vanity of the world so little understood, that to assert the folly of aspiring to its grandeurs should excite surprise.

XCIII. Vanity is so rooted in man’s heart, that a soldier, a powder-monkey, a cook, a porter, will boast of their performances, and lay themselves out for admiration; aye, and philosophers also. And writers against such weaknesses seek praise for their good writing; and readers for reading it; and I, who am writing this, have perhaps the same desires; and so have my readers also.

Curiosity is nothing but vanity. Persons, for the most part, wish only to learn, for the purpose of speaking of their knowledge. We should never undertake voyages or travels were we not to have to talk of them, — were it for the mere pleasure of seeing, without the hope of communicating what we saw.

XCV. In passing hastily through a town, we do not trouble ourselves about people’s opinion of us; but when we reside in a neighbourhood for a time, we are anxious to be thought well of. What length of time should this be for? A time proportioned to our brief and fugitive existence!

XCVI. Such is our ambition, that we wish to he known by all the world, and even by those who are to come after us. And such our vanity, that the good opinion of half a dozen persons around us affords us content and satisfaction!

— + Pride keeps invincible possession of us amidst our errors, miseries, &c. We even part with life with satisfaction, provided we can be talked of.

— + Vanity, play, the chase, visits, foolish plays, perpetuating a name.

There is such a charm in glory, that whatever we connect with it, — even death itself, — we love it still.

XCVIII. + Men do not maintain themselves in virtuous conduct by their own power, but by the counterpoise of two opposing vices; as we remain stationary under the influence of two conflicting winds. Take away one of these vices, and we fall into the other.

XCIX. There are some vices which only maintain their hold by the instrumentality of others, and which, if the trunk is removed, fall off like the branches.

C. When malice gets reason on its side, pride is engendered, and reason is displayed in all its lustre.

— When austerity and severe habits have been unsuccessful in attaining true happiness, and nature is again followed, she becomes proud of her restoration.

CII. + Eclipses are said to presage trouble, because trouble is common; so that, as calamities are of continual occurrence, the prediction is often fulfilled; if they had been said to predict good, they would as often have proved fallacious. Happiness is assigned only to rare conjunctures of the skies; thus the divination is not often put to the test, CIII. I hold it to be a fact, that if all persons knew what they said of each other, there would not be four friends left in the world. [Pascal, doubtless, meant here to imply the same limitation (by nature) as in the Thought, No. CLV. (Transl.)] This is manifest from the disputes to which indiscreet reports, passing from one to another, often give rise.

CIV. You have a bad habit in saying, “Pray excuse me.” Now, but for the apology, I should not have known anything had been done wrong. Allow me to say, there is nothing amiss but the excuse.

CV. I do not admire all these compliments:—” I give you a great deal of trouble “I am afraid I am tiring you “I am afraid this is tedious.” Either you embarrass, or you give offence.

CVI. Cesar appears to me to have been too old when he set about conquering the world for his amusement. Such a pastime might do for Augustus or Alexander: they were young persons, whom it is difficult to restrain; but Cesar ought to have known better.

CVII. The example of Alexander’s chastity has not made so many continent, as that of his drunkenness has produced intemperance. It causes no shame in others to be less virtuous, and it seems excusable to be not more vicious than he. Persons think the vices they fall into not altogether those of the commonalty, when they see them to belong to such great men; not perceiving that in that respect they are on a level with the very lowest. Their resemblance to them is of the same kind as that by which they themselves resemble common people; for, however exalted they may be, there are points in which they come in contact with the mere dregs of society. They are not beings elevated, as it were, in the air, abstracted from every thing earthly. By no means. If they are greater than ourselves, it is that they overtop us in height; their feet are on a level with other men’s. In that, they are on an equality, they stand upon common ground; and are ignoble as ourselves, as the most insignificant of beings, as children, as the brutes.

CVIII. + We like to trace the course of error — the passion of Cléobutine, for instance, because she is insensible of it: she would be uninteresting were she not deceived.

— + A king takes pleasure in the society of a prince, because the contrast diminishes the rank of the latter.

CIX. Reason sways us more imperiously than a. master; in disobeying the one we are unhappy, in disobeying the other we are fools.

CX. If we would reprove another with advantage, and convince him of his error, we should observe in what way he looks at the matter in question, (for there will usually be some measure of truth in his views,) and concede that point to him, while we explain to him the particulars in which his fallacy lies. He will be satisfied with this, for he will think he was not entirely mistaken, but only failed in seeing the question on all its sides. A man does not blame himself for not seeing everything, but he dislikes to find himself under an error; and this, perhaps, is because, naturally, all are incapable of universal knowledge, and yet, naturally, he cannot be mistaken in the way he looks at the matter: the impressions of the senses being always just.

CXI. + Shall we destroy life in order to prevent wickedness? That is to commit two crimes instead of one. “Vince in bono malum” St. Aug. [This sentiment, which Pascal, quoting from memory, attributes to St. Augustin, is from St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, ch xii. 21:—” Overcome evil with good.”]

• It is constraint which forms opinion. Slackness is, in my opinion, agreeable. Why? Because any one liking to dance upon a tight rope will be alone in his taste, and I can get up a larger number who will say, that it is not agreeable. [This passage, like a few others, is obscure; and I cannot feel certain that it is correctly rendered. (Transl.)]

CXIII. It is the effect of constraint, not of custom; for those who are capable of originality are few: the larger number will only follow the lead of others, and refuse praise to those who aim at distinction by their inventions. And if these latter persist in their object, and despise such as are not inventive, the others will treat them with ridicule, or even with violence, if possible. Let none, therefore, pique themselves upon such acuteness, or let them be satisfied to remain as they are. [The beginning of this passage, “It is the effect of constraint, not of custom,” was evidently connected with a preceding thought, which is wanting in the MS.]

CXIV. + Memory and pleasure are feelings; and even geometrical propositions become feelings; for reason renders them natural, and natural feelings are effaced by reason.

• What advantage would you derive from it, except for the necessities of the princes, and the honour of the people? If they had demanded it of you, and for obtaining it had invoked the aid of Christian princes, you might have made their plea available. But, that during fifty years all the princes should have been uselessly exerting themselves, and that there should have been such a pressing necessity to obtain…

CXVI. The last act is sanguinary, beautiful as is all the rest of the play. Dust is cast upon the head, and there is an end, and for ever.

CXVIII. + Sudden death is the only thing to be feared; therefore it is that Confessors surround the persons of the great.

CXIX. Where is the difference between a soldier and a Chartreuse monk, in their habits of obedience? Both are dependent and must obey, and their exercises are equally painful: the soldier, however, has always a hope of attaining to command, but never succeeds; for commanders, and even princes, are slaves and dependents; yet, still he hopes and labours on: the monk, on the other hand, takes a vow to be never otherwise than dependent. Thus they are alike in the perpetual servitude of both; they differ only in regard to hope, which the one always enjoys, the other has for ever renounced.

CXX. + Reasons which, viewed from afar, seem to limit our vision, — when near, limit it no longer; we then begin to see beyond them.

CXXII. “Ferox gens nullam esse vitam sine armis rati.” These love death better than peace: the others love death better than war. There is no opinion which may not be maintained at the risk of life, the love of which seems so strong and so natural. [Montaigne, Book i., ch. 40. “Every opinion is strong enough to admit of its being supported at the price of life. Cato, when consul, having to secure certain towns in Spain to the empire, and having forbidden the inhabitants to bear arms, great numbers killed themselves. ‘Ferox gens nullam vitam rati sine armis esse,’ Tit. Livi, Book xxxiv., ch. 17.]

• Many certainties are contradicted.

• Many falsehoods pass without contradiction.

• Contradiction is no mark of falsehood, neither is the absence of contradiction a mark of truth.

CXXIV. + We do not become tired of eating and sleeping daily, for hunger and drowsiness are every day recurring; but for this, they would weary. So, without a hunger for spiritual things, they also would weary. “Hunger after righteousness.” (Beatitude 8th.)

CXXV. By chance, thoughts are produced; by chance, they are lost; there is no method for preserving or acquiring them. (Erased.)

— + A thought has lapsed; I wished to transcribe it. Instead of doing so, all I can write is, that it has lapsed. (Erased.)

CXXVI. In the act of writing down a thought, it sometimes escapes me; but this only reminds me of my weakness, which I am prone hourly to forget. This is as instructive to me as the recovery of my thought would be; for I ever desire to know my own nothingness.

• Epictetus. Those who say you have a headache, [See No. CXXIX.]… it is not the same thing. We are certain of our good health, but not of our rectitude; and, in reality, his remark is absurd. (Vide inf. 87.)

• And yet he believed he carried conviction with him in saying, it is either in our own power or not. But he did not perceive that it is not in our power to regulate the heart; and he was wrong in the conclusion he has come to respecting Christians.

CXXVIII. St. Augustin saw that men laboured after shadows at sea, in battle, &c. He was not acquainted with the rule by which certain writers prove that they ought to do this. Montagne has perceived that we are disgusted with a person of imperfect understanding, and that custom reconciles to everything; but he has not discovered the reason of this.

These persons have perceived effects, but not causes. They are, in comparison with those who have discovered the causes, like those who possess eyes only, in comparison with such as possess an understanding: for effects are in a measure perceptible by sense; but causes are discoverable only by the understanding. And although these effects are perceptible by the understanding, yet that kind of understanding is, in respect to the one which perceives causes also, like the corporeal in regard to the intellectual senses.

CXXIX. How is it that we see a cripple with unconcern, but a crippled mind disturbs us? It is because a lame man acknowledges that we walk straight, but a person of a’crippled mind maintains that it is we who limp; were it not for this, we should pity, but not be disturbed by him.

Epictetus asks, with more force, Why are we not displeased at being told we have a headache; and yet take it amiss to be told we reason badly, or make an erroneous choice? The reason is, we may be quite certain we have not a headache, as that we are not lame; but we may not be so sure that we have not come to a wrong conclusion upon a question. Thus, having no other ground of certainty than that we have perceived the matter in question in this manner, as plainly as seemed to us possible; whereas another person has seen the direct opposite with equal plainness; we are by this means thrown into a state of embarrassment and surprise; and still more in this case, if many other persons ridicule our conclusion; for then we are compelled to set our own views against those of a multitude, which is ever venturesome and difficult. There can be no such conflict in regard to the testimony of the senses respecting the lame person.

Man is so constituted, that when often told he is a fool, he believes it; and when he often tells himself the same thing, he believes it also. We carry on a secret communion within ourselves, which requires to be carefully regulated; “ Corrumpunt mores bonos colloquia prava.”

We ought, as much as possible, to retire in silence within our own bosoms, and commune only with God, whom we know to be perfect Truth. In this way we best bring conviction home to ourselves.

Rank: the people pay honour to persons of high birth. The half-informed despise them, contending that birth is a mere accidental advantage. The sensible respect them, not on the same ground as the common people, but from deeper views. [“La Pensée de Derrière.” — See No. CXXXIII.] Devotees, possessing more zeal than knowledge, despise them, notwithstanding those considerations which procure them the respect of the wise; regarding them by a species of new light which their piety supplies: but mature Christians honour them, by a yet superior kind of light. [Written first, “by another and more recondite (intérieur) principle.”]

Thus we see opinions maintained on one side or another, according to the degree of men’s illumination.

It is true, then, that all the world lies under illusion; for even if the opinions of the people are sound, their own minds are not so; and they fancy truth to exist where it does not There may be truth in their opinions, but it is not at the point where they suppose it to be. For instance, it is right to honour the aristocracy, but not because of any intrinsic advantage in birth, &c.

• Continual overthrow of conflicting opinions.

• We have then demonstrated the vanity of man by the esteem in which he holds things of no real importance. And thus all these opinions are overthrown. We have then shown that, vain as these opinions are, they have a solid foundation, and, therefore, the people are not so frivolous as is alleged. Thus, also, we have overthrown the opinion which tended to overthrow those of the people.

• We must now, however, set ourselves to invalidate this latter position, and prove it to be still true, that the people are shallow, although their opinions have some degree of soundness; inasmuch as they are not conscious of the truth they contain; and, assigning such truth where it does not properly inhere, their opinions are, in reality, fallacious and unsound.

We ought to have a kind of hidden thought, whereby to judge of everything; while we hold the same language as the people.

• Man’s weakness is the source of many interesting demonstrations; as we learn to play skilfully on an instrument.

• It is an evil only through our weakness.

Inclination and force are the origin of all our actions: inclination! of the voluntary; force! of the involuntary.

• The habit of observing causes and effects shows the greatness of man, in dividing from his sensuality the ardour of his disposition. (See Thoughts, CLIV., CLXXXV., subs.)

This is admirable! I am not to pay honour to a man clothed in brocade, and followed by seven or eight lackeys! Why, he may order pie to receive lashes if I do not salute him! His very garment speaks compulsion.

It is the same with a richly caparisoned horse, in comparison with another in plainer harness. Montagne amuses himself by professing not to see any difference; wonders how any one else can; and asks the reason. “ In truth,” he says, “how is it?” &c. [Montaigne, Book i., chap, on “Inequality of Condition,” has this remark:—” If you buy a horse, you take off his trappings, and examine him naked and stripped. Why do you, in estimating a man, look at hint made up and ornamented?” This is probably the passage which Pascal alludes to: there does not seem to be any one beginning in the way above stated, “ In truth, how is it?”]

CXXXVIII. Unbelievers are the most credulous of persons. They will believe the miracles of Vespasian, and not those of Moses!

CXXXIX. Atheists demand perfect demonstration of every thing: now it cannot be clearly proved that the soul is material.

[It seems that Pascal, in this thought, had present to his mind the 3d ch of the 1st Book of a work now little known, which Charron has devoted to an “Apology for Religion.” It is earlier than that of “La Sagesse,” and is entitled, “Trois Livres pour la religion catholique, apostolique et romaine, contre tous athées, idolâtres, juifs, mahométans hérétiques, et schismatiques.” Paris 1602. Charron distinguishes three kinds of atheists; and speaking of those who absolutely deny a God, says that this kind of atheism “can exist only in an extremely bold and hardened mind.”

“Certainly,” he adds, “it seems to require as much or more boldness and hardihood of spirit to repel and resolutely strip ourselves of the fear and belief of a God, as to keep firm and constant hold of him. These are the two extremes, both rare and difficult, but the former the most so.”

The sentiment of Pascal corresponds with that of Charron, but with a certain restriction and limitation. Pascal had doubtless read Charron, and he quotes him in his notes for the preface to the first part of the “Apology for Christianity.”

Further, this thought has been published by Desmolets, and after him by the Dijon editor. But they have both materially altered the autograph text, by substituting the word “manque de force,” for “marque de force,” which latter is plainly written in the MS.]

CXLI. The change of a man into a saint can only be effected by grace; whoever doubts this knows nothing of what a saint or a man really is.

CXLII. Men can be taught everything but virtue; and yet there is nothing that they pique themselves so much upon possessing as virtue. They are vain of just that very thing which they have never acquired.

CXLIII. + There are but two classes of men: the one, the just, who believe themselves to be sinners; the other, sinners, who believe themselves to be just.

CXLIV. + Half-hearted religionists are those who know the truth, but maintain it only so long as it falls in with their interests: after that they abandon it.

• It is an evil to have our wants too well supplied.

CXLVI. + The habit of pampering the body increases by little and little. The nourishment may be abundant, but the real benefit small.

CXLIX. The arithmetical machine produces effects which approach nearer to thought than anything that animal nature can perform; but it is incapable of anything like will, such as is possessed by animals.

CL. + There is a total and essential difference between actions produced by the will, and every other description.

— The will is one of the principal organs of belief: not that it forms the belief; but that things are true or false according to the aspect under which they are regarded. The will, which determines our satisfaction to one thing rather than another, prevents the mind from giving impartial consideration to the qualities of those to which it is not inclined; and thus, the mind coinciding with the will, contents itself with looking at the surface of what is preferred, and forming its judgment upon mere external appearances.

CLI. All our reasoning is wont to he subservient to feeling. But fancy is both similar and opposed to feeling; so that they cannot be distinguished from each other. One person says my feeling is fancy; another avers that his fancy is feeling. Now, there ought to be some rule: reason offers herself; but she is easily turned about in every way, and thus there is no rule at all.

CLII. + When I consider the brief term of my earthly existence, absorbed in an eternity, past and to come; the insignificant space that I occupy, and the narrow limit of my perception; — when I see myself to be surrounded with infinitudes, unconscious of my existence, and unknown of me; I ask with alarm and astonishment, “Wherefore am I here, rather than elsewhere? wherefore now, rather than at some other time? Who has placed me here? By whose order, by whose arrangement, have this spot and this period been assigned to my existence?”

(In the margin is, “Memoria hospitis unius diei prœtereuntis.”)

• How many kingdoms are there with which we are unacquainted?

• I feel terrified at the eternal silence of this infinitude of space!

CLIII. + Why is my knowledge thus limited? Why my stature no more than this? my existence fixed at a hundred, and not a thousand years? What reason had nature to assign and choose that number rather than any other out of infinitude, when there was no reason for choosing one rather than another; and the one offered no ground of preference over the other?

CLIV. + Man’s licentiousness has given rise to excellent rules of police, of morality, and justice.

But at best, this vile principle of human nature, this “figmentum malum” is only covered over; it is not eradicated.

CLV. By nature all men hate each other. Then-natural inclinations have been made, as far as possible, to subserve the general good; but this is only a feint, and a false show of charity. At bottom it is hatred still.

• Yet is it a greatness in man, in his irregularities, to be able to derive from them so admirable a code of laws, and to exhibit in them, thus, a semblance of charity.

CLVI. + I have not toleration for those whom I see living so negligently in the faith, and so greatly abusing a privilege of which I think I should make a use so different. [This thought is in the copy only.]

CLVII. If it is a strange blindness, to live without inquiring what we are; it is a fearful one to live in sin, while we believe a God.

CLVIII. There are two things which instruct a man in everything relating to his nature, — instinct and experience.

CLIX. + We ought to know ourselves: if this does not enable us to discover truth, it serves to regulate our lives, and is, in itself, the highest wisdom.

CLX. A person once said to me, that she was accustomed to feel great joy and confidence after confession. Another told me, that she found her fears still continue. It struck me, that out of the experience of the two, a wholesome state of feeling might be formed, and that each was wanting in what might be gained from the other. The same thing happens often in other cases.

• 2d degree: to be neither praised nor blamed.

CLXII. + Every one believes he is all things to himself, for if he dies, all things die to him. Thence it arises that each one thinks himself all things to every one. We ought only to judge of nature by herself, not by ourselves.

CLXIII. The example of the magnanimous deaths of the Lacedemonians, and others, does not interest us, for what does it amount to? But the example of the martyrs’ deaths does interest us; they are members of ourselves. We have a common bond with them; then-fortitude may inspire ours, not only by the force of example, but because it may perhaps have been the means of producing ours. There is nothing of all this in the example of Pagans: we have no tie to them; just as we do not become rich by the wealth of a stranger, but may expect to do so by that of a father or a husband.

CLXIV. The indulgence of self-will never yields us peace, even if it procures us the full measure of our desires; but we have peace the instant we renounce it. Denying it, we can never be unhappy: indulging it, never happy. [This thought is not in the MS., but in the copy.]

CLXV. There is this in common in the lives of ordinary men and of saints, — that both aspire to happiness; and they differ only in the objects from which they expect it. Both the one and the other deem those their enemies who obstruct the attainment of their object.

We should make the will of God the rule by which to judge of good or evil, for it cannot be erroneous or undiscerning; and not our own will, which is ever full of error and obliquity. [This thought, which appeared first in the 4th edition of the “Pensées,” (1678,) is neither in the MS. nor the copies.]

CLXVI. True virtue then, and that alone, consists in hating ourselves, — for sensuality makes us hateful; and in aspiring to a state of being which deserves our love. But as we cannot love that which is not part of ourselves, we must love something that shall be in, and yet not actually ourselves; and this is the case with every man. Now, it is the Infinite alone, that can form such an object as this. The kingdom of God is within us; the universal good is in ourselves, and yet is not ourselves.

CLXVII. + People in general have the power of dismissing from their thoughts what they choose. “ Think not of the evidences of the Messiah,” said the Jew to his son. It is the same also in our days. And thus, in the case of many, false systems of religion are perpetuated, and even true ones also.

• But there are those who have not the power thus to dismiss reflection, but who think the more, the more they are forbidden to do so. These persons discard false systems, and true ones also, if they do not deem their evidences solid.

CLXVIII. When we desire to meditate upon God, do we not find something that distracts our thoughts, and turns them to other subjects? This is an evil, and it is one born with us.

CLXIX. All dissipating amusements are dangerous to a Christian life; but among the variety that the world has devised, none is more to be feared than theatrical representations. They are such natural and refined portraitures of the passions, that they serve to excite and awaken them in the bosom. This is especially the case with that of love; and chiefly when it is represented as chaste and honourable in its nature. The more innocent the emotion appears, to those who are themselves innocent, the more are they liable to be affected by it. Its fervour is agreeable to the natural disposition; we at once desire to experience feelings which we see so well represented; and thus, the conscience of the pure is satisfied by the propriety of the sentiments expressed; all fear is silenced; and we suppose that it can be no injury to purity to love with so much decorum and propriety. The theatre is quitted, with the heart full of the beauties and delights of passion, and the mind and conscience convinced of its innocence; and we are prepared to yield to the first impressions of so delightful a sentiment, or rather to seek occasions for a mutual flame; that we may experience the same pleasures, and even be exposed to the same vicissitudes, which we have seen so well depicted in the drama. [These reflections upon the theatre are not in the autograph MS., but they are in the copy. They were first published by Bossut, in 1779.]

CLXX. Men often mistake the imagination for the heart; and believe themselves converted when they have merely begun to reform.

CLXXII. + “Fascinatio nugacitatis.” That passion may not injure us, let us act as if we had but a week to live.

• If we can give up a week, we can give up a life.

• Scruples, unlawful desires.

• False fear.

• There is a fear, which does not spring from a belief in God, but from a doubt whether there be a God or not. Wholesome fear is produced by faith; a spurious one by scepticism: a sound fear unites itself with hope, and is the offspring of faith; for we place our hope in the God in whom we believe: an unsound one allies itself with despair; for we fear a God in whom we have no faith. The one fears to lose, the other to discover him.

CLXXIV. + The hope which Christians entertain of eternal happiness, is mingled with joy as well as with fear: they are not like those who hope for a kingdom of which they have never been the subjects; but their aspirations are for holiness, and freedom from corruption; — and of these things they have already had some experience.

CLXXV. The law does not destroy nature, but enlightens her; grace does not destroy the law, but brings it into exercise.

— The faith received at baptism is the source of all the life of the Christian, and of the converted.

CLXXVI. We may make an idol even of truth; for truth, apart from charity, is not God; it is his image, and a representation (une idole) which must not be loved, or adored: still less must we love or adore its opposite, which is falsehood.

CLXXVII. + I can be contented with entire obscurity; but if God appoints me a condition partially obscure, that very partial obscurity it is which dissatisfies me; and that, because I do not find in it the merit attaching to perfect seclusion. This is a fault, and shows that I make an idol of my obscurity, without looking to the appointment of God, which ought alone to be the object of my adoration.

CLXXVIII. + The waters of Babylon flow, and pass away, and draw us down with them.

— + O holy Sion! where all is abiding, and nothing passes away!

— + We should sit on the surface of the waters, not below, nor within, but above; not stand, but sit; for humility we should sit, and for safety we should be above them. But we shall stand in the courts of Jerusalem!

— + Let us mark whether this pleasure be abiding or pass away; if it pass away, it is a wave of Babylon.

CLXXIX. All that is in the world is “lust of the flesh, lust of the eye, or pride of life “libido sentiendi, libido sciendi, libido dominandi.” Unhappy earth, whose curse is to be devastated rather than watered by these waves of fire! Happy they who, on the surface of these streams, not engulfed by them, not carried down, but immoveably fixed, await in that secure and lowly posture the dawning rays of heavenly light; and, in calm repose, stretch out their hand to their Deliverer, that they may be placed firmly and for ever in the courts of the holy Jerusalem, where the pride of man shall never again oppose and overthrow them! They weep, but it is not to see the perishing things of sense swept away by the desolating stream; their tears flow at the thought of the country of their love, the heavenly Jerusalem, which a tedious exile has never effaced from their fond remembrances!

• There is nothing so dangerous as what is pleasing both to God and to man; for the states which are pleasing to God and man, have one quality which procures the favour of God, and another that of man, as is seen in the greatness of St. Theresa. That which pleases God is her deep humility under revelations; men admire her superior illuminations. And thus it is fatal to imitate such discourses as hers, in the belief that we are resembling also her holiness; and to suppose that, by such means, we are loving what God loves, and attaining to the state which secures his favour.

— + Better is it not to fast, and to be humble, than to fast and be self-righteous.

— + Pharisee, publican.

— + How useful would it be to me always to remember, that the same thing may equally injure or benefit me; and that all depends upon the blessing of God, which he bestows only upon what is done for his glory, and in conformity with his rules and designs. In this way, the manner may be as important as the thing itself, and perhaps more so, since God can extract good out of evil; but without God we may extract only evil out of good.

— + Compare not thyself with others, but with Me. If thou find not Me in them, thou comparest thyself with abomination. If thou find Me in them, thou mayest make the comparison. But what is it that thou comparest? Is it thyself, or Me in thyself? If thyself, that also is abomination. If Me, thou comparest Me to Myself. I am God in all!

— + I speak to thee often, and give thee counsel, because thy conductor cannot speak to thee; for I will not suffer thee to be without a guide. And perhaps I do this in answer to his prayers; and thus he guides thee, unseen by thyself.

— + Thou wouldst not seek me, if thou didst not possess me. Therefore disquiet not thyself.

CLXXXI. + Every thing may prove fatal to us, even things formed for our service; as, in common things, a wall may kill us, or the steps of a staircase, if we do not walk uprightly.

— The smallest movement is influential upon the whole of nature; the entire sea is displaced by a stone. So, in grace, the minutest action may be followed by incalculable consequences. Thus, every thing has its importance.

• In every thing we do, we should look, not only at the act itself, but at our own state, past, present, future, and that of others whom it may concern; and examine the connexion of all these things. Thus shall we preserve circumspection of conduct.

— + Thus shall I have also my internal and secret thoughts. [“Mes pensées de derrière la tête”] I shall be careful of every step I take.

— + Splendour of establishment. Deference attached to establishments.

— + The pleasure of greatness consists in the power of dispensing happiness, + The value of wealth is, that it should be dispensed liberally.

— + We should investigate the intrinsic value of all things. That of power is, to afford protection.

— + When force invades ceremonial observances; when a common soldier seizes the cap of a chief President, and throws it out of the window…

CLXXXIII. + Are you less a slave for being loved and flattered by your master?

• You are, at best, but a slave; your master flatters you; he will beat you presently.

CLXXXIV. + Perseus, King of Macedon. Paulus Emilius reproached him that he did not kill himself.

CLXXXVI. + To write against those who render science too abstruse. Descartes. [This note, which is only found in the copy, ought to be annexed to the Thoughts, No. IX., his, page 195.]

CLXXXVII. + Since we cannot know all that is to be known of everything, we ought to know a little of every thing. For it is far better to acquire something of every thing, than everything in one branch of knowledge only: it is general information which is far the most pleasing. If we could have both, it would be all the better; but as we must choose between the two, we should decide for the latter; and this the world, which is in many things a good judge, sees and appreciates. [This thought is only entire in the copy. The autograph MS. contains only a small part of it, the paper on which it is written having been cut.]

CLXXXVIII. + Nothing shows more the vanity of man than the causes and effects of love: it revolutionizes the whole universe. [This note is only in the copy. It appears to refer to Thought, No. XC., preceding.]

CLXXXIX. My fancy leads me to dislike any one that makes a disagreeable noise in eating. How powerful is fancy! And what is it all for? Would you indulge such inclinations because they are natural. No; rather resist them.[Only in the copy. This again refers to No. CLI.]