Reflections; or Sentences and Moral Maxims Part 22

C.--The restraint we lay upon ourselves to be constant, is not much better than an inconstancy. (See Maxim 369, 381.)

CI.--There are those who avoid our jealousy, of whom we ought to be jealous. (See Maxim 359.)

CII.--Jealousy is always born with love, but does not always die with it. (See Maxim 361.)

CIII.--When we love too much it is difficult to discover when we have ceased to be beloved.

CIV.--We know very well that we should not talk about our wives, but we do not remember that it is not so well to speak of ourselves. (See Maxim 364.)

CV.--Chance makes us known to others and to ourselves. (See Maxim 345.)

CVI.--We find very few people of good sense, except those who are of our own opinion. (See Maxim 347.)

CVII.--We commonly praise the good hearts of those who admire us. (See Maxim 356.)

CVIII.--Man only blames himself in order that he may be praised.

CIX.--Little minds are wounded by the smallest things. (See Maxim 357.)

CX.--There are certain faults which placed in a good light please more than perfection itself. (See Maxim 354.)

CXI.--That which makes us so bitter against those who do us a shrewd turn, is because they think themselves more clever than we are. (See Maxim 350.)

CXII.--We are always bored by those whom we bore. (See Maxim 352.)

CXIII.--The harm that others do us is often less than that we do ourselves. (See Maxim 363.)

CXIV.--It is never more difficult to speak well than when we are ashamed of being silent.

CXV.--Those faults are always pardonable that we have the courage to avow.

CXVI.--The greatest fault of penetration is not that it goes to the bottom of a matter--but beyond it. (See Maxim 377.)

CXVII.--We give advice, but we cannot give the wisdom to profit by it.

(See Maxim 378.)

CXVIII.--When our merit declines, our taste declines also. (See Maxim 379.)

CXIX.--Fortune discovers our vices and our virtues, as the light makes objects plain to the sight. (See Maxim 380.)

CXX.--Our actions are like rhymed verse-ends (Bouts-Rimes) which everyone turns as he pleases. (See Maxim 382.)

CXXI.--There is nothing more natural, nor more deceptive, than to believe that we are beloved.

CXXII.--We would rather see those to whom we have done a benefit, than those who have done us one.

CXXIII.--It is more difficult to hide the opinions we have than to feign those which we have not.

CXXIV.--Renewed friends.h.i.+ps require more care than those that have never been broken.

CXXV.--A man to whom no one is pleasing is much more unhappy than one who pleases n.o.body.

REFLECTIONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, BY THE DUKE DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD

I. On Confidence.

Though sincerity and confidence have many points of resemblance, they have yet many points of difference.

Sincerity is an openness of heart, which shows us what we are, a love of truth, a dislike to deception, a wish to compensate our faults and to lessen them by the merit of confessing them.

Confidence leaves us less liberty, its rules are stricter, it requires more prudence and reticence, and we are not always free to give it. It relates not only to ourselves, since our interests are often mixed up with those of others; it requires great delicacy not to expose our friends in exposing ourselves, not to draw upon their goodness to enhance the value of what we give.

Confidence always pleases those who receive it. It is a tribute we pay to their merit, a deposit we commit to their trust, a pledge which gives them a claim upon us, a kind of dependence to which we voluntarily submit. I do not wish from what I have said to depreciate confidence, so necessary to man. It is in society the link between acquaintance and friends.h.i.+p. I only wish to state its limits to make it true and real.

I would that it was always sincere, always discreet, and that it had neither weakness nor interest. I know it is hard to place proper limits on being taken into all our friends' confidence, and taking them into all ours.

Most frequently we make confidants from vanity, a love of talking, a wish to win the confidence of others, and make an exchange of secrets.

Some may have a motive for confiding in us, towards whom we have no motive for confiding. With them we discharge the obligation in keeping their secrets and trusting them with small confidences.

Others whose fidelity we know trust nothing to us, but we confide in them by choice and inclination.

We should hide from them nothing that concerns us, we should always show them with equal truth, our virtues and our vices, without exaggerating the one or diminis.h.i.+ng the other. We should make it a rule never to have half confidences. They always embarra.s.s those who give them, and dissatisfy those who receive them. They shed an uncertain light on what we want hidden, increase curiosity, ent.i.tling the recipients to know more, giving them leave to consider themselves free to talk of what they have guessed. It is far safer and more honest to tell nothing than to be silent when we have begun to tell. There are other rules to be observed in matters confided to us, all are important, to all prudence and trust are essential.

Everyone agrees that a secret should be kept intact, but everyone does not agree as to the nature and importance of secresy. Too often we consult ourselves as to what we should say, what we should leave unsaid.

There are few permanent secrets, and the scruple against revealing them will not last for ever.

With those friends whose truth we know we have the closest intimacy.

They have always spoken unreservedly to us, we should always do the same to them. They know our habits and connexions, and see too clearly not to perceive the slightest change. They may have elsewhere learnt what we have promised not to tell. It is not in our power to tell them what has been entrusted to us, though it might tend to their interest to know it.

We feel as confident of them as of ourselves, and we are reduced to the hard fate of losing their friends.h.i.+p, which is dear to us, or of being faithless as regards a secret. This is doubtless the hardest test of fidelity, but it should not move an honest man; it is then that he can sacrifice himself to others. His first duty is to rigidly keep his trust in its entirety. He should not only control and guard his and his voice, but even his lighter talk, so that nothing be seen in his conversation or manner that could direct the curiosity of others towards that which he wishes to conceal.

We have often need of strength and prudence wherewith to oppose the exigencies of most of our friends who make a claim on our confidence, and seek to know all about us. We should never allow them to acquire this unexceptionable right. There are accidents and circ.u.mstances which do not fall in their cognizance; if they complain, we should endure their complaints and excuse ourselves with gentleness, but if they are still unreasonable, we should sacrifice their friends.h.i.+p to our duty, and choose between two inevitable evils, the one reparable, the other irreparable.

II. On Difference of Character.

Although all the qualities of mind may be united in a great genius, yet there are some which are special and peculiar to him; his views are unlimited; he always acts uniformly and with the same activity; he sees distant objects as if present; he comprehends and grasps the greatest, sees and notices the smallest matters; his thoughts are elevated, broad, just and intelligible. Nothing escapes his observation, and he often finds truth in spite of the obscurity that hides her from others.

A lofty mind always thinks n.o.bly, it easily creates vivid, agreeable, and natural fancies, places them in their best light, clothes them with all appropriate adornments, studies others' tastes, and clears away from its own thoughts all that is useless and disagreeable.

A clever, pliant, winning mind knows how to avoid and overcome difficulties. Bending easily to what it wants, it understands the inclination and temper it is dealing with, and by managing their interests it advances and establishes its own.

A well regulated mind sees all things as they should be seen, appraises them at their proper value, turns them to its own advantage, and adheres firmly to its own opinions as it knows all their force and weight.

A difference exists between a working mind and a business-like mind. We can undertake business without turning it to our own interest. Some are clever only in what does not concern them, and the reverse in all that does. There are others again whose cleverness is limited to their own business, and who know how to turn everything to their own advantage.

It is possible to have a serious turn of mind, and yet to talk pleasantly and cheerfully. This cla.s.s of mind is suited to all persons in all times of life. Young persons have usually a cheerful and satirical turn, untempered by seriousness, thus often making themselves disagreeable.