129

Our nature consists in motion; complete rest is death.[65]

130

Restlessness.—­If a soldier, or labourer, complain of the hardship of his lot, set him to do nothing.

131

Weariness.[66]—­Nothing is so insufferable to man as to be completely at rest, without passions, without business, without diversion, without study.  He then feels his nothingness, his forlornness, his insufficiency, his dependence, his weakness, his emptiness.  There will immediately arise from the depth of his heart weariness, gloom, sadness, fretfulness, vexation, despair.

132

Methinks Caesar was too old to set about amusing himself with conquering the world.[67] Such sport was good for Augustus or Alexander.  They were still young men, and thus difficult to restrain.  But Caesar should have been more mature.

133

Two faces which resemble each other, make us laugh, when together, by their resemblance, though neither of them by itself makes us laugh.

134

How useless is painting, which attracts admiration by the resemblance of things, the originals of which we do not admire!

135

The struggle alone pleases us, not the victory.  We love to see animals fighting, not the victor infuriated over the vanquished.  We would only see the victorious end; and, as soon as it comes, we are satiated.  It is the same in play, and the same in the search for truth.  In disputes we like to see the clash of opinions, but not at all to contemplate truth when found.  To observe it with pleasure, we have to see it emerge out of strife.  So in the passions, there is pleasure in seeing the collision of two contraries; but when one acquires the mastery, it becomes only brutality.  We never seek things for themselves, but for the search.  Likewise in plays, scenes which do not rouse the emotion of fear are worthless, so are extreme and hopeless misery, brutal lust, and extreme cruelty.

136

A mere trifle consoles us, for a mere trifle distresses us.[68]

137

Without examining every particular pursuit, it is enough to comprehend them under diversion.

138

Men naturally slaters and of all callings, save in their own rooms.

139

Diversion.—­When I have occasionally set myself to consider the different distractions of men, the pains and perils to which they expose themselves at court or in war, whence arise so many quarrels, passions, bold and often bad ventures, etc., I have discovered that all the unhappiness of men arises from one single fact, that they cannot stay quietly in their own chamber.  A man who has enough to live on, if he knew how to stay with pleasure at home, would not leave it to go to sea or to besiege a town.  A commission in the army would not be bought so dearly, but that it is found insufferable not to budge from the town; and men only seek conversation and entering games, because they cannot remain with pleasure at home.