Pascal's Pensées
_The vanity of the sciences._--Physical science will not console me for
the ignorance of morality in the time of affliction. But the science of
ethics will always console me for the ignorance of the physical
sciences.
68
Men are never taught to be gentlemen, and are taught everything else;
and they never plume themselves so much on the rest of their knowledge
as on knowing how to be gentlemen. They only plume themselves on knowing
the one thing they do not know.
69
_The infinites, the mean._--When we read too fast or too slowly, we
understand nothing.
70
_Nature_ ...--[Nature has set us so well in the centre, that if we
change one side of the balance, we change the other also. _I act._ +Ta
zôa trechei.+ This makes me believe that the springs in our brain are so
adjusted that he who touches one touches also its contrary.]
71
Too much and too little wine. Give him none, he cannot find truth; give
him too much, the same.
72
_Man's disproportion._--[This is where our innate knowledge leads us. If
it be not true, there is no truth in man; and if it be true, he finds
therein great cause for humiliation, being compelled to abase himself in
one way or another. And since he cannot exist without this knowledge, I
wish that, before entering on deeper researches into nature, he would
consider her both seriously and at leisure, that he would reflect upon
himself also, and knowing what proportion there is....] Let man then
contemplate the whole of nature in her full and grand majesty, and turn
his vision from the low objects which surround him. Let him gaze on that
brilliant light, set like an eternal lamp to illumine the universe; let
the earth appear to him a point in comparison with the vast circle
described by the sun; and let him wonder at the fact that this vast
circle is itself but a very fine point in comparison with that described
by the stars in their revolution round the firmament. But if our view be
arrested there, let our imagination pass beyond; it will sooner exhaust
the power of conception than nature that of supplying material for
conception. The whole visible world is only an imperceptible atom in the
ample bosom of nature. No idea approaches it. We may enlarge our
conceptions beyond all imaginable space; we only produce atoms in
comparison with the reality of things. It is an infinite sphere, the
centre of which is everywhere, the circumference nowhere.[30] In short
it is the greatest sensible mark of the almighty power of God, that
imagination loses itself in that thought.
Returning to himself, let man consider what he is in comparison with all
existence; let him regard himself as lost in this remote corner of
nature; and from the little cell in which he finds himself lodged, I
mean the universe, let him estimate at their true value the earth,
kingdoms, cities, and himself. What is a man in the Infinite?
But to show him another prodigy equally astonishing, let him examine the
most delicate things he knows. Let a mite be given him, with its minute
body and parts incomparably more minute, limbs with their joints, veins
in the limbs, blood in the veins, humours in the blood, drops in the
humours, vapours in the drops. Dividing these last things again, let him
exhaust his powers of conception, and let the last object at which he
can arrive be now that of our discourse. Perhaps he will think that here
is the smallest point in nature. I will let him see therein a new abyss.
I will paint for him not only the visible universe, but all that he can
conceive of nature's immensity in the womb of this abridged atom. Let
him see therein an infinity of universes, each of which has its
firmament, its planets, its earth, in the same proportion as in the
visible world; in each earth animals, and in the last mites, in which he
will find again all that the first had, finding still in these others
the same thing without end and without cessation. Let him lose himself
in wonders as amazing in their littleness as the others in their
vastness. For who will not be astounded at the fact that our body, which
a little while ago was imperceptible in the universe, itself
imperceptible in the bosom of the whole, is now a colossus, a world, or
rather a whole, in respect of the nothingness which we cannot reach? He
who regards himself in this light will be afraid of himself, and
observing himself sustained in the body given him by nature between
those two abysses of the Infinite and Nothing, will tremble at the sight
of these marvels; and I think that, as his curiosity changes into
admiration, he will be more disposed to contemplate them in silence than
to examine them with presumption.
For in fact what is man in nature? A Nothing in comparison with the
Infinite, an All in comparison with the Nothing, a mean between nothing
and everything. Since he is infinitely removed from comprehending the
extremes, the end of things and their beginning are hopelessly hidden
from him in an impenetrable secret, he is equally incapable of seeing
the Nothing from which he was made, and the Infinite in which he is
swallowed up.
What will he do then, but perceive the appearance of the middle of
things, in an eternal despair of knowing either their beginning or their
end. All things proceed from the Nothing, and are borne towards the
Infinite. Who will follow these marvellous processes? The Author of
these wonders understands them. None other can do so.
Through failure to contemplate these Infinites, men have rashly rushed
into the examination of nature, as though they bore some proportion to
her. It is strange that they have wished to understand the beginnings of
things, and thence to arrive at the knowledge of the whole, with a
presumption as infinite as their object. For surely this design cannot
be formed without presumption or without a capacity infinite like
nature.
If we are well informed, we understand that, as nature has graven her
image and that of her Author on all things, they almost all partake of
her double infinity. Thus we see that all the sciences are infinite in
the extent of their researches. For who doubts that geometry, for
instance, has an infinite infinity of problems to solve? They are also
infinite in the multitude and fineness of their premises; for it is
clear that those which are put forward as ultimate are not
self-supporting, but are based on others which, again having others for
their support, do not permit of finality. But we represent some as
ultimate for reason, in the same way as in regard to material objects we
call that an indivisible point beyond which our senses can no longer
perceive anything, although by its nature it is infinitely divisible.
Of these two Infinites of science, that of greatness is the most
palpable, and hence a few persons have pretended to know all things. "I
will speak of the whole,"[31] said Democritus.
But the infinitely little is the least obvious. Philosophers have much
oftener claimed to have reached it, and it is here they have all
stumbled. This has given rise to such common titles as _First
Principles_, _Principles of Philosophy_,[32] and the like, as
ostentatious in fact, though not in appearance, as that one which blinds
us, _De omni scibili_.[33]
We naturally believe ourselves far more capable of reaching the centre
of things than of embracing their circumference. The visible extent of
the world visibly exceeds us; but as we exceed little things, we think
ourselves more capable of knowing them. And yet we need no less capacity
for attaining the Nothing than the All. Infinite capacity is required
for both, and it seems to me that whoever shall have understood the
ultimate principles of being might also attain to the knowledge of the
Infinite. The one depends on the other, and one leads to the other.
These extremes meet and reunite by force of distance, and find each
other in God, and in God alone.
Let us then take our compass; we are something, and we are not
everything. The nature of our existence hides from us the knowledge of
first beginnings which are born of the Nothing; and the littleness of
our being conceals from us the sight of the Infinite.
Our intellect holds the same position in the world of thought as our
body occupies in the expanse of nature.
Limited as we are in every way, this state which holds the mean between
two extremes is present in all our impotence. Our senses perceive no
extreme. Too much sound deafens us; too much light dazzles us; too great
distance or proximity hinders our view. Too great length and too great
brevity of discourse tend to obscurity; too much truth is paralysing (I
know some who cannot understand that to take four from nothing leaves
nothing). First principles are too self-evident for us; too much
pleasure disagrees with us. Too many concords are annoying in music; too
many benefits irritate us; we wish to have the wherewithal to over-pay
our debts. _Beneficia eo usque læta sunt dum videntur exsolvi posse; ubi
multum antevenere, pro gratia odium redditur._[34] We feel neither
extreme heat nor extreme cold. Excessive qualities are prejudicial to us
and not perceptible by the senses; we do not feel but suffer them.
Extreme youth and extreme age hinder the mind, as also too much and too
little education. In short, extremes are for us as though they were not,
and we are not within their notice. They escape us, or we them.
This is our true state; this is what makes us incapable of certain
knowledge and of absolute ignorance. We sail within a vast sphere, ever
drifting in uncertainty, driven from end to end. When we think to attach
ourselves to any point and to fasten to it, it wavers and leaves us; and
if we follow it, it eludes our grasp, slips past us, and vanishes for
ever. Nothing stays for us. This is our natural condition, and yet most
contrary to our inclination; we burn with desire to find solid ground
and an ultimate sure foundation whereon to build a tower reaching to the
Infinite. But our whole groundwork cracks, and the earth opens to
abysses.
Let us therefore not look for certainty and stability. Our reason is
always deceived by fickle shadows; nothing can fix the finite between
the two Infinites, which both enclose and fly from it.
If this be well understood, I think that we shall remain at rest, each
in the state wherein nature has placed him. As this sphere which has
fallen to us as our lot is always distant from either extreme, what
matters it that man should have a little more knowledge of the universe?
If he has it, he but gets a little higher. Is he not always infinitely
removed from the end, and is not the duration of our life equally
removed from eternity, even if it lasts ten years longer?
In comparison with these Infinites all finites are equal, and I see no
reason for fixing our imagination on one more than on another. The only
comparison which we make of ourselves to the finite is painful to us.
If man made himself the first object of study, he would see how
incapable he is of going further. How can a part know the whole? But he
may perhaps aspire to know at least the parts to which he bears some
proportion. But the parts of the world are all so related and linked to
one another, that I believe it impossible to know one without the other
and without the whole.
Man, for instance, is related to all he knows. He needs a place wherein
to abide, time through which to live, motion in order to live, elements
to compose him, warmth and food to nourish him, air to breathe. He sees
light; he feels bodies; in short, he is in a dependent alliance with
everything. To know man, then, it is necessary to know how it happens
that he needs air to live, and, to know the air, we must know how it is