But this is not done in a coldly indifferent study. Tones of tragedy and pain break through into the fabric of thought and illuminate the abyss with a brighter light. We run carelessly towards the abyss, holding the shutter in front of us so as not to see the abyss. ("Nous courons sans souci dans le precipice, apres que nous avons mis quelque chose devant nous pour nous empecher de le voir." («Le dernier acte est sanglant, quelque belle que soit la comedie en tout le reste: on jette enfin de la terre sur la tete, et en voila pour jamais»).

But regardless of the end, dying itself during life, in life itself, in the very process of life, is terrible. To lose, to lose; everything slips away, gradually and irrevocably. «C’est une chose horrible de sentir s’ecouler tout ce qu’on possede». "It's horrible to feel like everything we own is leaking away." Or another image: everything is shaking under us, everything is unstable, everything is unstable. On this foundation we want to build a tower that rises to the heavens, but the earth opens up below us to the foundations. Or we are sailing on the boundless sea, driven by the wind, and have nowhere to land, we would like to stop and — we cannot! «Nous voguons sur un milieu vaste, toujours incertains et flottants, pousses d’un bout vers l’autre. Quelque terme ou nous pensions nous attacher et nous affermir, il branle et nous quitte; et si nous le suivons, il echappe a nos prises, nous glisse et fuit d’une fuite eternelle. Rien ne s’arrete pour nous … Nous brulons de desir de trouver une assiette ferme, et une derniere base constante pour u edifier une tour qui s'eleve a Tinfini; mais tout notre fondement craque, et la terre s’ouvre jusqu’aux abimes». [396]

"Our whole foundation is shaken, and the earth is opened up to the abyss."

Humanity is miserable and pitiful, especially because it tries to close its eyes to the true meaning of its situation. It covers its miserable existence and hides it from its own eyes with the magnificent garments of conventionality. Force is covered by law; but this right itself is only a legitimized force. «Ne pouvant faire qu’il soit force d’obeir a la justice, on a fait qu’il soit juste d’obeir a la force; ne pouvant fortifier la justice, on a justifie la force, afin que la justice et la force fussent ensemble, et que la paix fut, qui est le souverain bien» [397]. This law itself is subject to conventions. "I can kill you, because you live on the other side of the river; if you lived on this side, it would be murder, a crime, but otherwise it is a feat!" For this reason the judges put on magnificent garments during the execution of the courts, in order to give the appearance of power to their impotence, in order to appeal to the imagination. This, of course, is sharpened to the point of paradox, but Pascal devotes a number of witty remarks to the influence of imagination in public affairs. The pomp of the royal court is also a drapery of power (and at the same time of universal frailty) under the appearance that acts on the imagination. But the right and the truth, perhaps, belong to the quantitative majority? «Pourquoi suiton la pluralite? estce a cause qu’ils ont plus de raison? non, mais plus de force». "Why do they follow the majority? Is it because it is more right? No, because he has more power."

But Pascal dwells more on the most basic, innermost fabric of our life. To the fabric of human life belongs the desire to dissipate, to amuse, to distract — le divertissement. It is only by having fun that we can forget the basic unhappiness and absolute fluidity of our position. It gives us the strength to live. Without amusement we would be utterly miserable, and amusement blinds us, does not give us the opportunity to think of our misfortune. Without entertainment, melancholy begins, not only boredom, but precisely melancholy, this is how Paekal's term "ennui" can be interpreted. The very structure, the very fabric of life is devalued. Taking a closer look at it, we are unhappy. Entertainment saves us from this invading melancholy, from this consciousness of the emptiness of life that rises from the depths of life. «Rien n’est si insupportable a l’homme que d'etre dans un plein repos, sans passions, sans affaires, sans divertissement, sans application. II sent alors son neant, son abandon, son insuffisance, sa dependance, son impuissance, son vide. Incontinent il sortira du fond de son ame Énnui, la noirceur, la tristesse, le chagrin, le dépit, le desespoir" [398].

The advantage of kings is that they always have people with them who constantly entertain them. «Le roi est environne de gens qui ne pensent qu’a divertir le roi, et a empecher de penser a lui. Car il est malheureux, tout roi qu'il est, s'il u pense" [399]. —

Whatever kind of king he may be, he is unhappy when the amusement ceases, for he is left alone with himself. The main reason for this, as we see, is "the natural misfortune of our condition, weak, mortal, and so miserable that nothing can console us when we begin to think about it closely" — "le malheur naturel de notre condition faible et mortelle, et si miserable, que rien ne peut nous consoler, lorsque nous y pensons de pres."

But it is precisely in this knowledge of our misfortune that, if not our salvation, is at least a feature of our basic human dignity. To know about your suffering, to know about your death. The material world, which kills him, knows nothing. This is the superiority of man, this "thinking reed" over the whole world, his "greater nobility."

A significant place, cited, like many others, in all anthologies. But it is so beautiful in the restrained power of its expression that I write it out: "L'homme n'est qu'un roseau, le plus faible de la nature; mais c’est un roseau pensant. II ne faut pas que l’univers entier s’arme pour Pecraser: une vrapeur, une goutte d’eau, suffit pour le tuer. Mais, quand l’univers Tecraserait, Thomme serait encore plus noble que ce qui le tue, parce qu’il sait qu’il meurt, et Tavantage que l’univers a sur lui; Tunivers n’en sait rien» [400].

"All the dignity of a person lies in his thought. But what is this thought? How stupid she is (qu'elle est sotte)!"

In this realization of man's fundamental misfortune there is his nobility, in his awareness of a terrible, painful emptiness ("le vide du cceur, le gouffre infini" — the emptiness of the heart, the endless abyss), moreover, in this emptiness itself, in this very misfortune (for a stone is not unhappy). Apparently, man by nature needs something that he does not have, without which he cannot live. «Toutes ces miseresla memes prouvent sa grandeur. Ce sont miseres de grand seigneur, miseres d’un roi depossede») [401].

Here is the turning point. A person must become aware of his unhappiness, his insignificance, his emptiness, and look for a way out, to seek satisfaction of his longing, his thirst. "Faim de la justice: beatitude huitième (?)" — "Hunger for Truth. The Eighth (?) Beatitude." "Therefore I equally blame those who only praise a man and those who only blame him, as well as those who try to entertain him. I can only approve of those who are looking for a wall – "Je ne puis approuver que ceux qui cherchent en gemissant".

6

"Seek with groaning" is what we are called to do. Pascal believes that "the emptiness of the heart, the infinite abyss, can be filled only by an infinite and imperishable object, i.e., only by God." But how to come to this knowledge, to this certainty, how to be convinced of it? Can this be proven?