The Philosophers

I can well conceive a man without hands, feet, head (for it is only experience which teaches us that the head is more necessary than feet). But I cannot conceive man without thought; he would be a stone or a brute.

I can easily imagine a person without hands, feet, or a head. Only experience teaches us that the head is more necessary than the feet. But I cannot imagine a person without thought. Without it, a person would be a stone or an animal.

The arithmetical machine produces effects which approach nearer to thought than all the actions of animals. But it does nothing which would enable us to attribute will to it, as to the animals.

The calculating machine produces results that come closer to thought than all the actions of animals. But it does nothing that would lead us to attribute a will to it, as we do to animals.

The account of the pike and frog of Liancourt.¹²⁸ They do it always, and never otherwise, nor any other thing showing mind.

The story of the pike and frog of Liancourt.¹²⁸ They always do this, never anything else, nor anything else that shows intelligence.

If an animal did by mind what it does by instinct, and if it spoke by mind what it speaks by instinct, in hunting, and in warning its mates that the prey is found or lost; it would indeed also speak in regard to those things which affect it closer, as example, "Gnaw me this cord which is wounding me, and which I cannot reach."

Suppose an animal used reason instead of instinct to do what it does. Suppose it also used reason to communicate while hunting, warning its companions that prey had been found or lost. Then it would surely communicate about things that affect it more directly. For example, it might say, "Gnaw through this cord for me. It is hurting me, and I cannot reach it."

The beak of the parrot, which it wipes, although it is clean.

The parrot's beak, which it wipes even though it is clean.

Instinct and reason, marks of two natures.

Instinct and reason are signs of two natures.

Reason commands us far more imperiously than a master; for in disobeying the one we are unfortunate, and in disobeying the other we are fools.

Reason commands us more forcefully than a master does. If we disobey a master, we suffer. If we disobey reason, we are fools.

Thought constitutes the greatness of man.

Thinking is what makes human beings great.

Man is but a reed, the most feeble thing in nature; but he is a thinking reed. The entire universe need not arm itself to crush him. A vapour, a drop of water suffices to kill him. But, if the universe were to crush him, man would still be more noble than that which killed him, because he knows that he dies and the advantage which the universe has over him; the universe knows nothing of this.

A human being is only a reed, the weakest thing in nature, but a thinking reed. The whole universe does not need to arm itself to crush him. A vapor or a drop of water is enough to kill him. But even if the universe crushed him, he would still be nobler than what killed him. He knows that he is dying and that the universe has power over him. The universe knows nothing of this.

All our dignity consists, then, in thought. By it we must elevate ourselves, and not by space and time which we cannot fill. Let us endeavour, then, to think well; this is the principle of morality.

All our dignity lies in thought. We must rise through thought, not through space and time, which we cannot fill. Let us try to think well. This is the foundation of morality.

A thinking reed.—It is not from space that I must seek my dignity, but from the government of my thought. I shall have no more if I possess worlds. By space the universe encompasses and swallows me up like an atom; by thought I comprehend the world.

A thinking reed. I must seek my dignity not in space, but in how I govern my thoughts. I would have no more dignity if I owned worlds. In space, the universe surrounds and swallows me like an atom. Through thought, I understand the world.

Immateriality of the soul.—Philosophers¹²⁹ who have mastered their passions. What matter could do that?

The soul is immaterial. Philosophers¹²⁹ have mastered their passions. How could matter do that?

The Stoics.—They conclude that what has been done once can be done always, and that since the desire of glory imparts some power to those whom it possesses, others can do likewise. There are feverish movements which health cannot imitate.

The Stoics. They conclude that what has been done once can always be done again. The desire for glory gives some power to those who feel it, so they conclude that others can do the same. There are movements caused by fever that a healthy person cannot imitate.

Epictetus¹³⁰ concludes that since there are consistent Christians, every man can easily be so.

Epictetus¹³⁰ concludes that because some Christians are consistent, every person can easily be consistent too.

Those great spiritual efforts, which the soul sometimes assays, are things on which it does not lay hold.¹³¹ It only leaps to them, not as upon a throne, for ever, but merely for an instant.

The soul sometimes attempts great spiritual efforts, but it cannot hold on to them.¹³¹ It only leaps to them for a moment, not to remain there forever as on a throne.

The strength of a man's virtue must not be measured by his efforts, but by his ordinary life.

A man's virtue should be judged not by his efforts, but by how he lives every day.

I do not admire the excess of a virtue as of valour, except I see at the same time the excess of the opposite virtue, as in Epaminondas,¹³² who had the greatest valour and the greatest kindness. For otherwise it is not to rise, it is to fall. We do not display greatness by going to one extreme, but in touching both at once, and filling all the intervening space. But perhaps this is only a sudden movement of the soul from one to the other extreme, and in fact it is ever at one point only, as in the case of a firebrand. Be it so, but at least this indicates agility if not expanse of soul.

I do not admire a virtue taken to its extreme, such as courage, unless I also see the opposite virtue taken to its extreme. Epaminondas,¹³² for example, had the greatest courage and the greatest kindness. Otherwise, we are not rising but falling. We show greatness not by going to one extreme, but by reaching both at once and filling the whole space between them. But perhaps this is only a sudden movement of the soul from one extreme to the other. Perhaps it is really at only one point at a time, like a burning stick. Even so, this shows agility of soul, if not breadth.

Man's nature is not always to advance; it has its advances and retreats.

Human nature does not always move forward. It moves forward and backward.

Fever has its cold and hot fits; and the cold proves as well as the hot the greatness of the fire of fever.

A fever brings bouts of cold and heat. The cold shows the intensity of the fever’s fire just as much as the heat does.

The discoveries of men from age to age turn out the same. The kindness and the malice of the world in general are the same. Plerumque gratæ principibus vices.¹³³

People’s discoveries turn out to be the same from one age to the next. The world’s kindness and malice are generally the same. Princes generally welcome change.¹³³

Continuous eloquence wearies.

Constant eloquence becomes tiresome.

Princes and kings sometimes play. They are not always on their thrones. They weary there. Grandeur must be abandoned to be appreciated. Continuity in everything is unpleasant. Cold is agreeable, that we may get warm.

Princes and kings sometimes play. They do not always sit on their thrones. They grow tired of sitting there. They must leave their grandeur behind to appreciate it. Too much of anything is unpleasant. Cold is pleasant because it lets us get warm.

Nature acts by progress, itus et reditus. It goes and returns, then advances further, then twice as much backwards, then more forward than ever, etc.

Nature progresses through itus et reditus, going forward and back. It goes forward and back, then advances farther. Then it goes back twice as far, then moves farther forward than ever, and so on.

The tide of the sea behaves in the same manner; and so apparently does the sun in its course.

The sea’s tide behaves the same way. The sun apparently does too as it moves across the sky.

The nourishment of the body is little by little. Fullness of nourishment and smallness of substance.

The body is nourished little by little. There is plenty of nourishment, but little substance.

When we would pursue virtues to their extremes on either side, vices present themselves, which insinuate themselves insensibly there, in their insensible journey towards the infinitely little: and vices present themselves in a crowd towards the infinitely great, so that we lose ourselves in them, and no longer see virtues. We find fault with perfection itself.

When we pursue virtues to either extreme, vices appear. At the infinitely small extreme, they creep in so gradually that we hardly notice them. At the infinitely great extreme, they appear in a crowd. We lose ourselves among them and can no longer see virtue. We find fault with perfection itself.

Man is neither angel nor brute, and the unfortunate thing is that he who would act the angel acts the brute.¹³⁴

A person is neither an angel nor a beast. Unfortunately, those who try to act like angels end up acting like beasts.¹³⁴

We do not sustain ourselves in virtue by our own strength, but by the balancing of two opposed vices, just as we remain upright amidst two contrary gales. Remove one of the vices, and we fall into the other.

We do not remain virtuous through our own strength, but because two opposing vices balance each other. It is like staying upright between two winds blowing in opposite directions. Remove one vice, and we fall into the other.

What the Stoics propose is so difficult and foolish!

What the Stoics suggest is so difficult and foolish!

The Stoics lay down that all those who are not at the high degree of wisdom are equally foolish and vicious, as those who are two inches under water.

The Stoics claim that all who have not reached a high level of wisdom are equally foolish and wicked. They are like people two inches underwater.

The sovereign good. Dispute about the sovereign good.—Ut sis contentus temetipso et ex te nascentibus bonis.¹³⁵ There is a contradiction, for in the end they advise suicide. Oh! What a happy life, from which we are to free ourselves as from the plague!

The highest good. A debate about the highest good. Be content with yourself and with the good things that come from within you.¹³⁵ This is a contradiction, because in the end they advise suicide. Oh, what a happy life, one we must escape as if it were the plague!

Ex senatus-consultis et plebiscitis ...

From decrees of the Senate and votes of the people ...

To ask like passages.

To ask for similar passages.

Ex senatus-consultis et plebiscitis scelera exercentur. Sen. 588.¹³⁶

Crimes are committed by order of the Senate and by popular vote. Sen. 588.¹³⁶

Nihil tam absurde dici potest quod non dicatur ab aliquo philosophorum. Divin.¹³⁷

Nothing is so absurd that some philosopher has not said it. Divin.¹³⁷

Quibusdam destinatis sententiis consecrati quæ non probant coguntur defendere. Cic.¹³⁸

Devoted to certain fixed beliefs, they are forced to defend what they do not approve. Cic.¹³⁸

Ut omnium rerum sic litterarum quoque intemperantia laboramus. Senec.¹³⁹

As with all things, we suffer from excess in literature too. Seneca.¹³⁹

Id maxime quemque decet, quod est cujusque suum maxime.¹⁴⁰

What suits each person best is what is most their own.¹⁴⁰

Hos natura modos primum dedit.¹⁴¹ Georg.

Nature first established these ways.¹⁴¹ Georg.

Paucis opus est litteris ad bonam mentem.¹⁴²

Little learning is needed for a sound mind.¹⁴²

Si quando turpe non sit, tamen non est non turpe quum id a multitudine laudetur.

Even if something is not shameful, it is still shameful when the crowd praises it.

Mihi sic usus est, tibi ut opus est facto, fac.¹⁴³ Ter.

This is how I do things. You do what you need to do.¹⁴³ Ter.

Rarum est enim ut satis se quisque vereatur.¹⁴⁴

For it is rare for anyone to respect themselves enough.¹⁴⁴

Tot circa unum caput tumultuantes deos.¹⁴⁵

So many gods in an uproar over one person.¹⁴⁵

Nihil turpius quam cognitioni assertionem præcurrere. Cic.¹⁴⁶

Nothing is more shameful than making a claim before you know the facts. Cicero.¹⁴⁶

Nec me pudet, ut istos, fateri nescire quid nesciam.¹⁴⁷

Unlike those people, I am not ashamed to admit what I do not know.¹⁴⁷

Melius non incipient.¹⁴⁸

They will not make a better beginning.¹⁴⁸

Thought.—All the dignity of man consists in thought. Thought is therefore by its nature a wonderful and incomparable thing. It must have strange defects to be contemptible. But it has such, so that nothing is more ridiculous. How great it is in its nature! How vile it is in its defects!

Thought. All human dignity lies in thought. By its nature, thought is a wonderful thing beyond compare. It must have strange flaws to be worthy of contempt. Yet it has such flaws, and nothing is more ridiculous. How great thought is by nature! How vile it is in its flaws!

But what is this thought? How foolish it is!

But what is this thought? How foolish it is!

The mind of this sovereign judge of the world is not so independent that it is not liable to be disturbed by the first din about it. The noise of a cannon is not necessary to hinder its thoughts; it needs only the creaking of a weathercock or a pulley. Do not wonder if at present it does not reason well; a fly is buzzing in its ears; that is enough to render it incapable of good judgment. If you wish it to be able to reach the truth, chase away that animal which holds its reason in check and disturbs that powerful intellect which rules towns and kingdoms. Here is a comical god! O ridicolosissimo eroe!

The mind of this supreme judge of the world is not so independent that it cannot be disturbed by a sudden noise. It does not take a cannon blast to interrupt its thoughts. The creak of a weather vane or a pulley is enough. Do not be surprised if it cannot reason well right now. A fly is buzzing in its ears, and that is enough to prevent good judgment. If you want it to reach the truth, chase away that creature. It holds reason in check and disturbs that powerful intellect which rules towns and kingdoms. What a comical god! O most ridiculous hero!

The power of flies; they win battles,¹⁴⁹ hinder our soul from acting, eat our body.

The power of flies. They win battles,¹⁴⁹ keep our souls from acting, and eat our bodies.

When it is said that heat is only the motions of certain molecules, and light the conatus recedendi which we feel,¹⁵⁰ it astonishes us. What! Is pleasure only the ballet of our spirits? We have conceived so different an idea of it! And these sensations seem so removed from those others which we say are the same as those with which we compare them! The sensation from the fire, that warmth which affects us in a manner wholly different from touch, the reception of sound and light, all this appears to us mysterious, and yet it is material like the blow of a stone. It is true that the smallness of the spirits which enter into the pores touches other nerves, but there are always some nerves touched.

We are astonished when we are told that heat is only the motion of certain molecules. We are equally astonished to hear that light is the conatus recedendi, or tendency to move away, which we feel.¹⁵⁰ What! Is pleasure only a dance of our spirits? We had imagined it so differently! These sensations seem so unlike the others we compare them with, yet we are told they are the same. The warmth we feel from fire affects us in a way completely different from touch. Our experience of sound and light also seems mysterious. Yet all of this is material, like the blow of a stone. It is true that the tiny spirits entering our pores touch different nerves. But some nerves are always touched.

Memory is necessary for all the operations of reason.

Memory is necessary for all reasoning.

[Chance gives rise to thoughts, and chance removes them; no art can keep or acquire them.

[Chance brings thoughts to mind, and chance takes them away. No skill can keep them or bring them back.

A thought has escaped me. I wanted to write it down. I write instead, that it has escaped me.]

A thought slipped away from me. I wanted to write it down. Instead, I write that it slipped away.]

[When I was small, I hugged my book; and because it sometimes happened to me to ... in believing I hugged it, I doubted....]

[When I was little, I hugged my book. And because it sometimes happened to me to ... while believing I was hugging it, I doubted....]

In writing down my thought, it sometimes escapes me; but this makes me remember my weakness, that I constantly forget. This is as instructive to me as my forgotten thought; for I strive only to know my nothingness.

Sometimes, as I write down a thought, I forget it. But this reminds me of my weakness, which I constantly forget. This teaches me as much as the thought I forgot. For all I seek is to know my own nothingness.

Scepticism.—I shall here write my thoughts without order, and not perhaps in unintentional confusion; that is true order, which will always indicate my object by its very disorder. I should do too much honour to my subject, if I treated it with order, since I want to show that it is incapable of it.

Scepticism. I will write my thoughts here without order. Perhaps this confusion is not unintentional. That is true order, since its very disorder will always show what I am aiming at. I would do my subject too much honor by treating it in an orderly way. I want to show that it cannot be treated that way.

What astonishes me most is to see that all the world is not astonished at its own weakness. Men act seriously, and each follows his own mode of life, not because it is in fact good to follow since it is the custom, but as if each man knew certainly where reason and justice are. They find themselves continually deceived, and by a comical humility think it is their own fault, and not that of the art which they claim always to possess. But it is well there are so many such people in the world, who are not sceptics for the glory of scepticism, in order to show that man is quite capable of the most extravagant opinions, since he is capable of believing that he is not in a state of natural and inevitable weakness, but, on the contrary, of natural wisdom. Nothing fortifies scepticism more than that there are some who are not sceptics; if all were so, they would be wrong.

What astonishes me most is that not everyone is astonished by their own weakness. People go about life seriously, each following their own way of life. They do this not because following custom is actually good, but as if each knew for certain where reason and justice lie. They are constantly deceived. Yet, with a comical humility, they think the fault is their own. They do not blame the art they claim always to possess. But it is good that so many people are not skeptics, for the sake of skepticism’s glory. They show that people are capable of the most extravagant opinions. For they can believe that they are not naturally and inevitably weak, but naturally wise instead. Nothing strengthens skepticism more than the fact that some people are not skeptics. If everyone were a skeptic, the skeptics would be wrong.

[I have passed a great part of my life believing that there was justice, and in this I was not mistaken; for there is justice according as God has willed to reveal it to us. But I did not take it so, and this is where I made a mistake; for I believed that our justice was essentially just, and that I had that whereby to know and judge of it. But I have so often found my right judgment at fault, that at last I have come to distrust myself, and then others. I have seen changes in all nations and men, and thus after many changes of judgment regarding true justice, I have recognised that our nature was but in continual change, and I have not changed since; and if I changed, I would confirm my opinion.

[I spent much of my life believing that justice existed, and I was not wrong. Justice exists as God has chosen to reveal it to us. But that was not how I understood it, and that was my mistake. I believed that our justice was just in itself. I also believed that I had the means to recognize and judge it. But I found my sound judgment mistaken so often that I finally came to distrust myself, and then others. I saw changes in all nations and in all people. After changing my judgment about true justice many times, I realized that our nature was constantly changing. I have not changed my mind about that since. If I did, I would only confirm my opinion.

The sceptic Arcesilaus,¹⁵¹ who became a dogmatist.]

The skeptic Arcesilaus,¹⁵¹ who became a dogmatist.]

This sect derives more strength from its enemies than from its friends; for the weakness of man is far more evident in those who know it not than in those who know it.

This sect gains more strength from its enemies than from its friends. Human weakness is far more obvious in those who do not recognize it than in those who do.

Discourses on humility are a source of pride in the vain, and of humility in the humble. So those on scepticism cause believers to affirm. Few men speak humbly of humility, chastely of chastity, few doubtingly of scepticism. We are only falsehood, duplicity, contradiction; we both conceal and disguise ourselves from ourselves.

Talk of humility makes vain people proud and humble people humble. Likewise, talk of skepticism makes believers assert their faith. Few people speak humbly about humility, chastely about chastity, or doubtfully about skepticism. We are nothing but falsehood, duplicity, and contradiction. We both hide and disguise ourselves from ourselves.

Scepticism.—Excess, like defect of intellect, is accused of madness. Nothing is good but mediocrity. The majority has settled that, and finds fault with him who escapes it at whichever end. I will not oppose it. I quite consent to put myself there, and refuse to be at the lower end, not because it is low, but because it is an end; for I would likewise refuse to be placed at the top. To leave the mean is to abandon humanity. The greatness of the human soul consists in knowing how to preserve the mean. So far from greatness consisting in leaving it, it consists in not leaving it.

Skepticism. Both too much and too little intellect are called madness. Only moderation is good. The majority has decided this. It criticizes anyone who goes beyond moderation, in either direction. I will not oppose this view. I willingly accept a place in the middle. I refuse to be at the lower extreme, not because it is low, but because it is an extreme. I would also refuse to be placed at the upper extreme. To leave the middle is to abandon humanity. The greatness of the human soul consists in knowing how to stay in the middle. Greatness does not lie in leaving it. It lies in not leaving it.

It is not good to have too much liberty. It is not good to have all one wants.

It is not good to have too much freedom. It is not good to have everything you want.

All good maxims are in the world. We only need to apply them. For instance, we do not doubt that we ought to risk our lives in defence of the public good; but for religion, no.

All good principles already exist in the world. We only need to put them into practice. For example, we have no doubt that we should risk our lives to defend the public good. But we do not think so when it comes to religion.

It is true there must be inequality among men; but if this be conceded, the door is opened not only to the highest power, but to the highest tyranny.

It is true that there must be inequality among people. But once this is accepted, it opens the door not only to the greatest power, but also to the greatest tyranny.

We must relax our minds a little; but this opens the door to the greatest debauchery. Let us mark the limits. There are no limits in things. Laws would put them there, and the mind cannot suffer it.

We must give our minds some rest, but this opens the door to the worst excesses. Let us set limits. There are no limits in things themselves. Laws try to impose them, but the mind cannot bear it.

When we are too young, we do not judge well; so, also, when we are too old. If we do not think enough, or if we think too much on any matter, we get obstinate and infatuated about it. If one considers one's work immediately after having done it, one is entirely prepossessed in its favour; by delaying too long, one can no longer enter into the spirit of it. So with pictures seen from too far or too near; there is but one exact point which is the true place wherefrom to look at them: the rest are too near, too far, too high, or too low. Perspective determines that point in the art of painting. But who shall determine it in truth and morality?

When we are too young, we do not judge well. The same is true when we are too old. If we think too little or too much about a matter, we become stubborn and obsessed with it. If we examine our work immediately after finishing it, we are entirely biased in its favor. If we wait too long, we can no longer enter into its spirit. The same is true of pictures viewed from too far away or too close. There is only one exact point from which to view them correctly. All other points are too close, too far, too high, or too low. In painting, perspective determines that point. But who can determine it in matters of truth and morality?

When all is equally agitated, nothing appears to be agitated, as in a ship. When all tend to debauchery, none appears to do so. He who stops draws attention to the excess of others, like a fixed point.

When everything moves equally, nothing appears to move, as on a ship. When everyone is drawn to immoral behavior, no one appears to be. A person who stops draws attention to the excesses of others, like a fixed point.

The licentious tell men of orderly lives that they stray from nature's path, while they themselves follow it; as people in a ship think those move who are on the shore. On all sides the language is similar. We must have a fixed point in order to judge. The harbour decides for those who are in a ship; but where shall we find a harbour in morality?

People who indulge their desires tell those who live orderly lives that they have strayed from nature’s path. They say they themselves follow it. In the same way, people on a ship think those on the shore are moving. Everyone speaks in much the same way. We need a fixed point from which to judge. For those on a ship, the harbor provides that point. But where can we find a harbor in morality?

Contradiction is a bad sign of truth; several things which are certain are contradicted; several things which are false pass without contradiction. Contradiction is not a sign of falsity, nor the want of contradiction a sign of truth.

Contradiction is a poor test of truth. Several things that are certain are disputed, while several false things go undisputed. Contradiction is not a sign that something is false. Nor is the absence of contradiction a sign that something is true.

Scepticism.—Each thing here is partly true and partly false. Essential truth is not so; it is altogether pure and altogether true. This mixture dishonours and annihilates it. Nothing is purely true, and thus nothing is true, meaning by that pure truth. You will say it is true that homicide is wrong. Yes; for we know well the wrong and the false. But what will you say is good? Chastity? I say no; for the world would come to an end. Marriage? No; continence is better. Not to kill? No; for lawlessness would be horrible, and the wicked would kill all the good. To kill? No; for that destroys nature. We possess truth and goodness only in part, and mingled with falsehood and evil.

Skepticism. Everything here is partly true and partly false. Truth in its essence is not like that. It is entirely pure and entirely true. This mixture dishonors and destroys it. Nothing is purely true, so nothing is true in the sense of pure truth. You may say it is true that killing is wrong. Yes, we know well what is wrong and false. But what will you say is good? Chastity? I say no, because the world would come to an end. Marriage? No, sexual restraint is better. Not killing? No, lawlessness would be horrible, and the wicked would kill all the good. Killing? No, that destroys nature. We possess truth and goodness only in part, mixed with falsehood and evil.

If we dreamt the same thing every night, it would affect us as much as the objects we see every day. And if an artisan were sure to dream every night for twelve hours' duration that he was a king, I believe he would be almost as happy as a king, who should dream every night for twelve hours on end that he was an artisan.

If we had the same dream every night, it would affect us as much as the things we see every day. Suppose a craftsman were sure to dream every night for twelve hours that he was a king. I believe he would be almost as happy as a king who dreamed every night for twelve hours that he was a craftsman.

If we were to dream every night that we were pursued by enemies, and harassed by these painful phantoms, or that we passed every day in different occupations, as in making a voyage, we should suffer almost as much as if it were real, and should fear to sleep, as we fear to wake when we dread in fact to enter on such mishaps. And, indeed, it would cause pretty nearly the same discomforts as the reality.

Suppose we dreamed every night that enemies were chasing us and these painful apparitions tormented us. Or suppose we dreamed that we spent each day doing different things, such as taking a journey. We would suffer almost as much as if it were real. We would fear going to sleep, just as we fear waking when we dread facing such troubles in real life. Indeed, it would cause almost the same discomfort as the real experience.

But since dreams are all different, and each single one is diversified, what is seen in them affects us much less than what we see when awake, because of its continuity, which is not, however, so continuous and level as not to change too; but it changes less abruptly, except rarely, as when we travel, and then we say, "It seems to me I am dreaming." For life is a dream a little less inconstant.

But all dreams are different, and each one contains many changes. So what we see in dreams affects us much less than what we see when awake. Waking life has a continuity that dreams lack. Yet it is not so continuous and steady that it never changes. It just changes less abruptly, except on rare occasions, such as when we travel. Then we say, "It feels as if I am dreaming." For life is a dream that is a little less changeable.

[It may be that there are true demonstrations; but this is not certain. Thus, this proves nothing else but that it is not certain that all is uncertain, to the glory of scepticism.]

[There may be valid proofs, but this is not certain. This proves only that it is not certain that everything is uncertain, to the glory of skepticism.]

Good sense.—They are compelled to say, "You are not acting in good faith; we are not asleep," etc. How I love to see this proud reason humiliated and suppliant! For this is not the language of a man whose right is disputed, and who defends it with the power of armed hands. He is not foolish enough to declare that men are not acting in good faith, but he punishes this bad faith with force.

Good sense. They are forced to say, "You are not acting in good faith; we are not asleep," and so on. How I love to see this proud reason humbled and pleading! This is not how a man speaks when his right is challenged and he defends it by force of arms. He is not foolish enough to say that people are acting in bad faith. He punishes their bad faith with force.

Ecclesiastes¹⁵² shows that man without God is in total ignorance and inevitable misery. For it is wretched to have the wish, but not the power. Now he would be happy and assured of some truth, and yet he can neither know, nor desire not to know. He cannot even doubt.

Ecclesiastes¹⁵² shows that without God, a person lives in total ignorance and unavoidable misery. It is miserable to want something but lack the power to attain it. A person wants to be happy and certain of some truth. Yet he can neither know nor stop wanting to know. He cannot even doubt.

My God! How foolish this talk is! "Would God have made the world to damn it? Would He ask so much from persons so weak?" etc. Scepticism is the cure for this evil, and will take down this vanity.

My God! How foolish this talk is! "Would God have made the world to condemn it? Would he demand so much from such weak people?" And so on. Skepticism is the cure for this evil. It will bring down this vanity.

Conversation.—Great words: Religion, I deny it.

Conversation. Big words: Religion. I deny it.

Conversation.—Scepticism helps religion.

Conversation. Scepticism helps religion.

Against Scepticism.—[ ... It is, then, a strange fact that we cannot define these things without obscuring them, while we speak of them with all assurance.] We assume that all conceive of them in the same way; but we assume it quite gratuitously, for we have no proof of it. I see, in truth, that the same words are applied on the same occasions, and that every time two men see a body change its place, they both express their view of this same fact by the same word, both saying that it has moved; and from this conformity of application we derive a strong conviction of a conformity of ideas. But this is not absolutely or finally convincing, though there is enough to support a bet on the affirmative, since we know that we often draw the same conclusions from different premisses.

Against Skepticism. [ ... It is strange that we cannot define these things without making them less clear. Yet we speak of them with complete confidence.] We assume that everyone understands them in the same way. But this assumption is entirely without basis, since we have no proof of it. I do see that people use the same words on the same occasions. Whenever two people see an object change its place, they describe the same event with the same word. Both say that it has moved. From this shared use of words, we become strongly convinced that their ideas are the same. But this is not absolutely or finally convincing. Still, there is enough reason to bet that their ideas are the same. We know that we often reach the same conclusions from different starting points.

This is enough, at least, to obscure the matter; not that it completely extinguishes the natural light which assures us of these things. The academicians¹⁵³ would have won. But this dulls it, and troubles the dogmatists to the glory of the sceptical crowd, which consists in this doubtful ambiguity, and in a certain doubtful dimness from which our doubts cannot take away all the clearness, nor our own natural lights chase away all the darkness.

This is enough, at least, to obscure the matter. It does not completely extinguish the natural light that assures us of these things. If it did, the academicians¹⁵³ would have won. But it does dim that light and trouble the dogmatists, to the satisfaction of the skeptics. Their advantage lies in this uncertainty and this dimness. Our doubts cannot remove all the light, nor can our natural light drive away all the darkness.

It is a singular thing to consider that there are people in the world who, having renounced all the laws of God and nature, have made laws for themselves which they strictly obey, as, for instance, the soldiers of Mahomet, robbers, heretics, etc. It is the same with logicians. It seems that their licence must be without any limits or barriers, since they have broken through so many that are so just and sacred.

It is strange to consider that some people have rejected all the laws of God and nature. Yet they have made laws for themselves that they strictly obey. Muhammad’s soldiers, robbers, and heretics, among others, are examples. The same is true of logicians. It seems their freedom to do as they please must have no limits or barriers. After all, they have broken through so many that are just and sacred.

All the principles of sceptics, stoics, atheists, etc., are true. But their conclusions are false, because the opposite principles are also true.

All the principles of skeptics, Stoics, atheists, and others are true. But their conclusions are false because the opposite principles are also true.

Instinct, reason.—We have an incapacity of proof, insurmountable by all dogmatism. We have an idea of truth, invincible to all scepticism.

Instinct, reason. We cannot prove things, and no amount of dogmatism can overcome this. We have an idea of truth that no scepticism can defeat.

Two things instruct man about his whole nature; instinct and experience.

Two things teach us about our whole nature: instinct and experience.

The greatness of man is great in that he knows himself to be miserable. A tree does not know itself to be miserable. It is then being miserable to know oneself to be miserable; but it is also being great to know that one is miserable.

Human beings are great because they know they are miserable. A tree does not know it is miserable. Knowing that you are miserable is a sign of misery. But it is also a sign of greatness.

All these same miseries prove man's greatness. They are the miseries of a great lord, of a deposed king.

All these same miseries prove humanity's greatness. They are the miseries of a great lord, of a king stripped of his throne.

We are not miserable without feeling it. A ruined house is not miserable. Man only is miserable. Ego vir videns.¹⁵⁴

We cannot be miserable without feeling it. A ruined house is not miserable. Only human beings are miserable. Ego vir videns.¹⁵⁴

The greatness of man.—We have so great an idea of the soul of man that we cannot endure being despised, or not being esteemed by any soul; and all the happiness of men consists in this esteem.

The greatness of humanity. We think so highly of the human soul that we cannot bear being despised or not being respected by anyone. All human happiness consists in being respected.

Glory.—The brutes do not admire each other. A horse does not admire his companion. Not that there is no rivalry between them in a race, but that is of no consequence; for, when in the stable, the heaviest and most ill-formed does not give up his oats to another, as men would have others do to them. Their virtue is satisfied with itself.

Glory. Animals do not admire one another. A horse does not admire another horse. They may compete in a race, but that makes no difference. Back in the stable, the heaviest and most poorly formed horse does not give up his oats to another. Yet people expect others to give things up for them. The animals’ virtue is satisfied with itself.

The greatness of man even in his lust, to have known how to extract from it a wonderful code, and to have drawn from it a picture of benevolence.

Human greatness shows itself even in selfish desire. People have drawn a remarkable code from it and created an image of goodwill.

Greatness.—The reasons of effects indicate the greatness of man, in having extracted so fair an order from lust.

Greatness. The explanations of these effects show human greatness. People have drawn such a fine order from lust.

The greatest baseness of man is the pursuit of glory. But it is also the greatest mark of his excellence; for whatever possessions he may have on earth, whatever health and essential comfort, he is not satisfied if he has not the esteem of men. He values human reason so highly that, whatever advantages he may have on earth, he is not content if he is not also ranked highly in the judgment of man. This is the finest position in the world. Nothing can turn him from that desire, which is the most indelible quality of man's heart.

Man's pursuit of glory is his greatest weakness. But it is also the greatest sign of his excellence. Whatever he owns on earth, however healthy and comfortable he may be, he is not satisfied without others' respect. He values human judgment so highly that no earthly advantage satisfies him unless others also think highly of him. This is the finest position in the world. Nothing can turn him away from this desire. It is the most deeply rooted quality of the human heart.

And those who most despise men, and put them on a level with the brutes, yet wish to be admired and believed by men, and contradict themselves by their own feelings; their nature, which is stronger than all, convincing them of the greatness of man more forcibly than reason convinces them of their baseness.

Even those who most despise human beings and consider them no better than animals still want to be admired and believed by them. Their own feelings contradict them. Their nature, which is stronger than anything else, convinces them of human greatness more forcefully than reason convinces them of human baseness.

Contradiction.—Pride counterbalancing all miseries. Man either hides his miseries, or, if he disclose them, glories in knowing them.

Contradiction. Pride offsets all miseries. People either hide their miseries or, if they reveal them, take pride in recognizing them.

Pride counterbalances and takes away all miseries. Here is a strange monster, and a very plain aberration. He is fallen from his place, and is anxiously seeking it. This is what all men do. Let us see who will have found it.

Pride offsets and removes all suffering. Here is a strange monster, plainly gone astray. He has fallen from his place and is anxiously searching for it. This is what all people do. Let us see who will have found it.

When malice has reason on its side, it becomes proud, and parades reason in all its splendour. When austerity or stern choice has not arrived at the true good, and must needs return to follow nature, it becomes proud by reason of this return.

When malice has reason on its side, it grows proud. It shows off reason in all its splendor. When austerity or a stern choice fails to reach the true good, it must return to following nature. It grows proud because of this return.

Evil is easy, and has infinite forms; good is almost unique.¹⁵⁵ But a certain kind of evil is as difficult to find as what we call good; and often on this account such particular evil gets passed off as good. An extraordinary greatness of soul is needed in order to attain to it as well as to good.

Evil is easy and takes endless forms. Good is almost unique.¹⁵⁵ But one kind of evil is as hard to find as what we call good. For this reason, that particular evil is often mistaken for good. Reaching it requires extraordinary greatness of soul, just as reaching good does.

The greatness of man.—The greatness of man is so evident, that it is even proved by his wretchedness. For what in animals is nature we call in man wretchedness; by which we recognise that, his nature being now like that of animals, he has fallen from a better nature which once was his.

The greatness of man. The greatness of man is so evident that even his misery proves it. What is natural in animals, we call misery in man. From this, we recognize that his nature is now like that of animals. He has fallen from a better nature that was once his.

For who is unhappy at not being a king, except a deposed king? Was Paulus Æmilius¹⁵⁶ unhappy at being no longer consul? On the contrary, everybody thought him happy in having been consul, because the office could only be held for a time. But men thought Perseus so unhappy in being no longer king, because the condition of kingship implied his being always king, that they thought it strange that he endured life. Who is unhappy at having only one mouth? And who is not unhappy at having only one eye? Probably no man ever ventured to mourn at not having three eyes. But any one is inconsolable at having none.

Who is unhappy about not being a king, except a king who has lost his throne? Was Paulus Æmilius¹⁵⁶ unhappy because he was no longer consul? On the contrary, everyone thought him fortunate to have been consul, because the office could be held only temporarily. But people thought Perseus so unhappy at no longer being king that they found it strange he went on living. They thought this because being a king meant remaining one for life. Who is unhappy about having only one mouth? And who is not unhappy about having only one eye? Probably no one has ever dared to mourn not having three eyes. But anyone who has no eyes is inconsolable.

Perseus, King of Macedon.—Paulus Æmilius reproached Perseus for not killing himself.

Perseus, King of Macedon. Paulus Aemilius criticized Perseus for not killing himself.

Notwithstanding the sight of all our miseries, which press upon us and take us by the throat, we have an instinct which we cannot repress, and which lifts us up.

Even though we see all our miseries pressing on us and gripping us by the throat, we have an instinct we cannot suppress. It lifts us up.

There is internal war in man between reason and the passions.

There is a war within each person between reason and the passions.

If he had only reason without passions ...

If he had only reason and no passions ...

If he had only passions without reason ...

If he had only passions and no reason ...

But having both, he cannot be without strife, being unable to be at peace with the one without being at war with the other. Thus he is always divided against, and opposed to himself.

But because he has both, he cannot avoid conflict. He cannot be at peace with one without being at war with the other. So he is always divided and at odds with himself.

This internal war of reason against the passions has made a division of those who would have peace into two sects. The first would renounce their passions, and become gods; the others would renounce reason, and become brute beasts. (Des Barreaux.)¹⁵⁷ But neither can do so, and reason still remains, to condemn the vileness and injustice of the passions, and to trouble the repose of those who abandon themselves to them; and the passions keep always alive in those who would renounce them.

This inner war between reason and the passions has divided those who seek peace into two groups. The first would give up their passions and become gods. The others would give up reason and become brute beasts. (Des Barreaux.)¹⁵⁷ But neither can do so. Reason remains to condemn the baseness and injustice of the passions. It also disturbs the peace of those who surrender to them. And the passions remain alive in those who would give them up.

Men are so necessarily mad, that not to be mad would amount to another form of madness.

People are so inevitably mad that not being mad would be another form of madness.

The nature of man may be viewed in two ways: the one according to its end, and then he is great and incomparable; the other according to the multitude, just as we judge of the nature of the horse and the dog, popularly, by seeing its fleetness, et animum arcendi; and then man is abject and vile. These are the two ways which make us judge of him differently, and which occasion such disputes among philosophers.

Human nature can be viewed in two ways. We can judge it by its purpose, and then humans are great and incomparable. Or we can judge it by the common standard, as people judge horses and dogs by their speed, et animum arcendi, their spirit for warding off attack. By this standard, humans are low and vile. These two ways lead us to judge humans differently and give rise to disputes among philosophers.

For one denies the assumption of the other. One says, "He is not born for this end, for all his actions are repugnant to it." The other says, "He forsakes his end, when he does these base actions."

Each denies the other's assumption. One says, "He was not born for this purpose, because all his actions are contrary to it." The other says, "He abandons his purpose when he does these shameful things."

For Port-Royal.¹⁵⁸ Greatness and wretchedness.—Wretchedness being deduced from greatness, and greatness from wretchedness, some have inferred man's wretchedness all the more because they have taken his greatness as a proof of it, and others have inferred his greatness with all the more force, because they have inferred it from his very wretchedness. All that the one party has been able to say in proof of his greatness has only served as an argument of his wretchedness to the others, because the greater our fall, the more wretched we are, and vice versa. The one party is brought back to the other in an endless circle, it being certain that in proportion as men possess light they discover both the greatness and the wretchedness of man. In a word, man knows that he is wretched. He is therefore wretched, because he is so; but he is really great because he knows it.

For Port-Royal.¹⁵⁸ Greatness and misery. People have inferred misery from greatness, and greatness from misery. Some have argued all the more strongly for human misery by using human greatness as proof of it. Others have argued all the more strongly for human greatness by finding it in human misery itself. Everything one side has said to prove human greatness has only given the other side an argument for human misery. The greater our fall, the more miserable we are, and vice versa. Each side leads back to the other in an endless circle. As people gain understanding, they discover both human greatness and human misery. In short, we know that we are miserable. We are therefore miserable because we are miserable. But we are truly great because we know it.

This twofold nature of man is so evident that some have thought that we had two souls. A single subject seemed to them incapable of such sudden variations from unmeasured presumption to a dreadful dejection of heart.

This twofold nature of human beings is so clear that some have thought we had two souls. They could not believe that one person could shift so suddenly from boundless arrogance to dreadful despair.

It is dangerous to make man see too clearly his equality with the brutes without showing him his greatness. It is also dangerous to make him see his greatness too clearly, apart from his vileness. It is still more dangerous to leave him in ignorance of both. But it is very advantageous to show him both. Man must not think that he is on a level either with the brutes or with the angels, nor must he be ignorant of both sides of his nature; but he must know both.

It is dangerous to show people too clearly how much they are like animals without also showing them their greatness. It is also dangerous to show them their greatness too clearly without showing them their baseness. It is even more dangerous to leave them unaware of both. But it is very helpful to show them both. People must not think they are equal to either animals or angels. Nor should they be unaware of either side of their nature. They must know both.

I will not allow man to depend upon himself, or upon another, to the end that being without a resting-place and without repose ...

I will not let man rely on himself or on anyone else, so that he has no place to rest and no peace ...

If he exalt himself, I humble him; if he humble himself, I exalt him; and I always contradict him, till he understands that he is an incomprehensible monster.

If he praises himself, I humble him. If he humbles himself, I praise him. I always contradict him until he understands that he is an incomprehensible monster.

I blame equally those who choose to praise man, those who choose to blame him, and those who choose to amuse themselves; and I can only approve of those who seek with lamentation.

I equally blame those who choose to praise humanity, those who choose to condemn it, and those who choose to amuse themselves. I can approve only of those who search with sorrow.

It is good to be tired and wearied by the vain search after the true good, that we may stretch out our arms to the Redeemer.

It is good to grow tired and weary from searching in vain for the true good, so that we may reach out to the Redeemer.

Contraries. After having shown the vileness and the greatness of man.—Let man now know his value. Let him love himself, for there is in him a nature capable of good; but let him not for this reason love the vileness which is in him. Let him despise himself, for this capacity is barren; but let him not therefore despise this natural capacity. Let him hate himself, let him love himself; he has within him the capacity of knowing the truth and of being happy, but he possesses no truth, either constant or satisfactory.

Contrasts. After showing both the baseness and the greatness of human beings. Let people now recognize their worth. Let them love themselves, for they have a nature capable of good. But they should not therefore love the baseness within them. Let them despise themselves, for this capacity produces nothing. But they should not therefore despise this natural capacity. Let them hate themselves and love themselves. They have the capacity to know the truth and to be happy. But they possess no truth that is constant or satisfying.

I would then lead man to the desire of finding truth; to be free from passions, and ready to follow it where he may find it, knowing how much his knowledge is obscured by the passions. I would indeed that he should hate in himself the lust which determined his will by itself, so that it may not blind him in making his choice, and may not hinder him when he has chosen.

I would then lead a person to desire the truth, to be free from passions, and to follow the truth wherever he finds it. He should know how much his passions cloud his understanding. I would also have him hate the desire within him that controls his will. Then it will not blind him as he makes his choice or hold him back after he has chosen.

All these contradictions, which seem most to keep me from the knowledge of religion, have led me most quickly to the true one.

All these contradictions seem to stand most in the way of my understanding religion. Yet they have led me most quickly to the true religion.