es, thus
disappointed in Voltaire as he had been disappointed in Mirabeau, to
examine into the sources of the low moral condition of the age. He
attributed it to "le mepris de la gloire," and he set himself to
define this quality and to impress it, with all the force of
repetition, on the dulled consciences of his contemporaries.

It is extremely difficult, it is well-nigh impossible, to find an
equivalent in English for the word "gloire." It is a French
conception, and one to which our language does not readily, or
gracefully, lend itself. In the mind of Vauvenargues the idea of
"gloire" took the central place, and we may form an intelligent
conception of the meaning he stamped upon the word, by repeating some
of his axioms.

He says: "The flush of dawn is not so lovely as the earliest
experiences of _gloire_. _Gloire_ makes heroes beautiful." Again:
"Nothing is so essential as renown, and nothing so surely gives renown
as merit; these are things that reason itself has united, and why
should we distinguish true _gloire_ from merit, which is the source of
it, and of which it is the proof?" This moral union of merit, glory
and renown, in triple splendour revolving round each other, was the
main object of Vauvenargues' contemplation, and he admits that the
central passion of his life was "l'amour de la gloire." What, then, is
the exact meaning of "la Gloire," which the dictionaries superficially
translate by "glory,"--a very different thing?

Vauvenargues starts a new conception of the value of self-esteem, or
rather of the desire of being esteemed by others. The seventeenth
century had poured its vials of contempt over the _amour-propre_ of
mankind, and no doubt that had led to a corresponding decline in the
energy of the nation. Pascal had severely ridiculed the vanity which
he says is anchored in the heart of man, and he actually mocks at the
idea of a desire for renown; expressing his astonishment that even
philosophers have the fatuity to wish for fame. Vauvenargues is
probably thinking of Pascal when he says that those who dilate upon
the inevitable nothingness of human glory would feel vexation if they
had to endure the open contempt of a single individual. Men are proud
of little things--of dancing well or even of skating gracefully, or of
still meaner accomplishments, yet those very persons despise real
renown. "But us," he says in one of his noble outbursts, "but us it
excites to labour and virtue." We note,