But correlation is not causation, and association football is by far the most popular sport in the world, so one would expect there to be more footballer BLPs than other sports. But one question remains: what evidence is there that one game between two teams from fully-professional leagues makes a footballer "likely" notable, but not a baseball player, or cricketer, etc. I think that this discussion is symptomatic of a wider problem of the application of notability policy in wikipedia. There is a clear disparity in how strictly individual wikiprojects define notability, not just of biographies.
In my experience as an academic with an interest in scientific articles and biographies of scientists, the bar defined in WP:NPROF for an academic to qualify for a biography on wikipedia is far far stricter than in minor sports players, TV shows, or even fictional characters in those TV shows! It makes no sense that any footballer who happens to kick a football around for some known team is eligible for a biography here, but those people who actually advance human knowledge and make new scientific discoveries worthy of inclusion in the sum of all human knowledge are subject to much more stringent test for notability.
Polyamorph talk , 12 July UTC.
Is that the setup I'd do myself if I were Dictator of Wikipedia? Probably not. But I rather doubt you'd care for some of my subjective judgments as to which field is more notable than another, which is why I strive not to proffer any.
Ravenswing , 13 July UTC. I know this has been said but we have to increase the criteria for the player to be notable so I have a few suggestions in mind. This will cover players who might not only join for players who only got on because they were a sub. If we adopt HawkAussie's proposal or even just test it , apparently making 1 start in the Premier League and being substituted after 45 minutes makes you more notable than making 20 appearances as a substitute and playing for minutes?
Stendhal would have loved that patient, impartial chronicle of love's ravages: instead of Parisian salons and Duchesses it is all servant-girls and Bloomsbury lodging-houses; but the Liber Amoris is no less pitiful and, if possible, more real than the diary of Salviati. There are certain books which, for the frequency of their mention in this work, demand especial attention of the reader—they are its commentary and furnish much of the material for its ideas.
The rest—excepting perhaps Scarron, Carlo Gozzi, Auguste La Fontaine, and one or two of the less-known Memoirs—are the common reading of a very large public. This list of books is mentioned as the select library of Lisio Visconti, who "was anything but a great reader.
Often these phantom people are mentioned side by side with a character from a book or a play or with someone Stendhal had actually met in life. In the same way the dates, which the reader will often find appended to a story or a note, sometimes give the date of a real event in Stendhal's life, while at other times it can be proved that, at the particular time given, the event mentioned could not have taken place. This falsification of names and dates was a mania with Stendhal. To most of his friends he gave a name completely different from their real one, and adopted with each of them a special pseudonym for himself.
The list of Stendhal's pseudonyms is extensive and amusing. Yet in spite of its affectation, it remained for him one of the most important works for the study of genuine passion. Then we must add the Liaisons Dangereuses —a work which bears certain resemblances to Stendhal's De l'Amour. Both are the work of a soldier and both have a soldierly directness; for perfect balance and strength of construction few books have come near the Liaisons Dangereuses —none have ever surpassed it.
What wonder, then, that Stendhal was interested? To the letters of Mlle. These names are only the most important. Stendhal's reading was [Pg xvi] extensive, and we might swell the list with the names of Montesquieu, Condillac, Condorcet, Chamfort, Diderot—to name only the moralists. It is noticeable that almost all these books, mentioned as the favourite authorities of Stendhal, are eighteenth-century works.
But, to begin with, neither estimate comes near the mark; and, moreover, Stendhal hated Voltaire almost as much as Blake did. It was not an indiscriminate cry of Rights and Liberty which interested Stendhal in the eighteenth century. But even if Stendhal, like the happy optimist of to-day, had mistaken the hatred of past wrongs for a proof of present well-being, how could a student of Love fail to be fascinated by an age such as that of Lewis XV? It was the leisure for loving, which, as he was always remarking, court-life and only court-life makes possible, that reconciled him to an age he really despised.
Besides, as has been already suggested, the contradiction in Stendhal was strong. In spite of his liberalism, he was pleased in later life to add the aristocratic "de" to the name of Beyle. With Lord Byron, divided in heart between the generous love of liberty which led him to fight for the freedom of Greece, and disgust at the vulgarity of the Radical party, which he had left behind in England, Stendhal found himself closely in sympathy [Pg xvii] when they met in Italy.
It was the originality  of the men of the sixteenth century which called forth his genuine praises; even the statesmen-courtiers and soldiers of the heroic age of Lewis XIV awoke his admiration;  the gallant courtiers and incompetent statesmen of Lewis XV awoke at least his interest.
Stendhal's De l'Amour , and in less degree his novels, have had to struggle for recognition, and the cause has largely been the peculiarity of his attitude—his scepticism, the exaggerated severity of his treatment of idyllic subjects, together with an unusual complement of sentiment and appreciation of the value of sentiment for the understanding of life.
It is his manner of thinking, much rather than the strangeness of his thoughts themselves, which made the world hesitate to give Stendhal the position which it now accords him. But at least one great discovery the world did find in De l'Amour —a novelty quite apart from general characteristics, apart from its strange abruptness and stranger truth of detail.
Stendhal's discovery is "Crystallisation"; it is the central idea of his book. The word was his invention, though the thought, which it expresses so decisively, is to be found, like most so-called advanced ideas, hidden away in a corner of Montaigne's Essays.
While Montaigne, and others no doubt, had seen in this a peculiarity of love, Stendhal saw in it love's essential characteristic—one might say, its explanation, if love were capable of being explained. Besides, in this book Stendhal is seeking the how not the why of love. And he goes beyond love: he recognises the influence of crystallisation upon other sides of life besides love.
Crystallisation has become an integral part of the world's equipment for thought and expression. The crisis in Stendhal's posthumous history is Sainte-Beuve's Causeries des Lundis of January 2nd and 9th, , of which Stendhal was the subject.
Stendhal died in It is sometimes said that his reputation is a fictitious reputation, intentionally worked up by partisanship and without regard to merit, that in his lifetime he was poorly thought of. This is untrue. His artistic activities, like his military, were appreciated by those competent to judge them. He was complimented by Napoleon on his services prior to the retreat from Moscow; Balzac, who of all men was capable of judging a novel and, still more, a direct analysis of a passion, was one of his admirers, and particularly an admirer of De l'Amour.
From the general public he met to a great extent with mistrust, and for a few years after his death his memory was honoured with apathetic silence. And then, very appropriately, early in the next year was heard the impressive judgment of Sainte-Beuve. And this is true not only of his travels over land and sea, but also of those into the thoughtful world of books. Stendhal was always and in all situations beset by this fear; it tainted his happiest moments and his best qualities.
We have already remarked on the effect on his style of his mistrust of himself—it is the same characteristic. A sentimental romantic by nature, he was always on his guard against the follies of a sentimental outlook; a sceptic by education and the effect of his age, he was afraid of being the dupe of his doubts; he was sceptical of scepticism itself. This tended to make him unreal and affected, made him often defeat his own ends in the oddest way.
In order to avoid the possibility of being carried away too far along a course, in which instinct led him, he would choose a direction approved instead by his intellect, only to find out too late that he was cutting therein a sorry figure. Remember, as a boy he made his entrance into the world "with the fixed intention of being a seducer of women," and that, late in life, he made the melancholy confession that his normal role was that of the lover crossed in love.
Most readers here are ambitious folks who want to improve their financial health. That criticism, not counting the Elizabethan, falls into three main periods or divisions. During the second part of this encounter On the Making Preparations Road, p. Is the Minotaur, a half man half bull who eats human flesh, real? I was fortunate to attend, which is in fact rather to my initial point.
Here lies the commentary on not a little in Stendhal's life and works. Henry Beyle, who wrote under the name of Stendhal, was born at Grenoble in , and was educated in his [Pg xx] native town. In he came to Paris and was placed there under the protection of Daru, an important officer under Napoleon, a relative and patron of his family. But he showed no fitness for the various kinds of office work to which he was put.
He tried his hand at this time, unsuccessfully also, at painting. In , still under the protection of Daru, he went to Italy, and, having obtained a commission in the 6th regiment of Dragoons, had his first experience of active service. By he had distinguished himself as a soldier, and it was to the general surprise of all who knew him, that he returned to France on leave, handed in his papers and returned to Grenoble.
He soon returned to Paris, there to begin serious study. But in , he was once more with Daru and the army,—present at the triumphal entry of Napoleon into Berlin. It was directly after this that he was sent to Brunswick as assistant commissaire des guerres.
He left Brunswick in , but after a flying visit to Paris, he was again given official employment in Germany. He was with the army at Vienna. After the peace of Schoenbrunn he returned once more to Paris in In , he saw service once more—taking an active and distinguished part in the Russian campaign of that year. He was complimented by Napoleon on the way he had discharged his duties in the commissariat. He witnessed the burning of Moscow and shared in the horrors and hardships of the retreat. The fall of Napoleon in the same year deprived him of his position and prospects.
He went to Milan and stayed there with little interruption till ; only leaving after these, the happiest, years of his life, through fear of being implicated in the Carbonari troubles. In , he was appointed to the consulate of Trieste; but Metternich, who, no doubt, mistrusted his liberal [Pg xxi] tendencies, refused to ratify his appointment, and he was transferred to Civita Vecchia.