knew it, for mere fhame and forrow. Some years afterwards, in another civil war of the fame people, a foldier, who had killed his brother, demanded a reward for it from his officers . The utility of an action does not render it honourable. The utility of an action is but a forry plea for the beauty and honour of it; and it is wrong to infer, that because such a thing is ufeful, it is therefore incumbent on every one to perform it; and not only a duty, but for his honour. Omnia non pariter rerum funt omnibus apta §. All things are not alike for all men fit. Were we to chufe the most neceffary, and the moft useful action of human fociety, it would be marriage; yet the faints think celibacy the more honourable ftate, excluding the moft venerable order of men from it, as we fet apart those cattle for ftallions, which are the leaft in our estimation. The world fubject to continual changes. CHA P. II. O Of Repentance. THERS form man, I only declare what he is; and I reprefent a particular one, very indifferently formed, and whom, were I to model again, I would certainly make very different from what he is; but what is done cannot be recalled. Now, though the features of my picture vary, there is still a likeness. The univerfe is but one perpetual motion, in which all things are inceffantly wheeled about; the earth, the rocks of Caucafus, and the pyramids of Egypt, both by the general motion, and a particular one of their own. Conftancy itself is no other than a more languid motion. I cannot be fure of my ob ject: it is always disturbed and staggering by a natural giddinefs. I take it in this point as it is at the inftant when I Tacit. Hift. lib. iii. cap. 51. § Propert. lib. iii. eleg, ix. ver. 7• con manner what' this book. confider it. I do not paint its being, I paint its paffage ; not a paffage from one century to another, or, as the people fay, from feven years to another feven; but from day to day, from minute to minute. I muft accommodate my history to the time. I may foon change not only my fortune, but alfo my intention. It is a true copy of various and changeable accidents, and of imagi nations that are wavering, and fometimes contrary. Whether it be that I am not then the man I was, or that I lay hold on the fubjects with other circumftances and confiderations, fo it is that perhaps I may plainly contradict myself; but, as Demades faid, I do not contradict the truth. Could my foul once take fure footing, I would not make an attempt, but would speak definitively and peremptorily; but it is always learning and making trial. I propofe a life mean, and without luftre. It is all one; all moral philofophy is as applicable to a vulgar and private life as to the moft fpendid. Every man carries the entire form of the human condition. Authors communicate themfelves to the people by fome special and extraordinary work. I, in the first place, by my univerfal being, as Michael de Montaigne, not as a grammarian, a poet, or a lawyer. If men complain that I fpeak too much of myself, I complain that they do not fo much as think of themselves. But is it reasonable, that being fo particular in my way of living, I fhould pretend to make myself known to the public? And is it also reasonable that I should introduce into the world, where workmanship and art have fo much credit and authority, the crude and plain effects of nature, and of frail nature too? Is not writing books without learning like building a wall without ftone or brick? The fancies of mufic are carried on by art, mine by chance. I have this at leaft, according to difcipline, that never any man treated of a fubject, whereof he was more the mafter, than I am of that which I have undertaken; and that in this I am the most knowing man alive. Secondly, that never did any man penetrate deeper into his fubject, por more distinctly fcrutinize into its parts and confequences, C 3 quences, nor ever more exactly and more plainly arrived at the end which he propofed to himself in his work. To finith it, I need only apply to it with the fidelity which I have therein difplayed with the utmost fincerity and purity. I fpeak the truth, not as much as I would, but as much as I dare; and I dare a little the more as I grow older; for, methinks, cuftom indulges my age with more liberty of prating, as well as of indifcretion in talking of a man's felf. That cannot fall out here, which I often obferve elsewhere, that the work and the artificer contradict each other. Has a man of fo elegant a converfation written fo filly a treatife? or are fuch learned writings the product of a man of fo mean converfation, whofe difcourfe is common, and who but feldom writes; that is to fay, whose capacity is borrowed, and not his own? A man of learning is not learned in every thing; but the felf-fufficient man is fufficient in every thing, even in ignorance. Here my book and I go hand-in-hand in one even pace. In other cafes a work may be recommended and cenfured abftractedly from the workman, but not in this. He that touches the one, touches the other. He that fhall judge of it without knowing him, will injure himself more than me. He who does know him gives me all the fatisfaction I defire. I fhall be more happy than I deferve, if I can only obtain thus much from the public approbation as to make men of understanding fenfible that I was capable of making learning turn to my benefit if I had it, and that I deferved to have been affifted by a better memory. Be pleafed here to excufe what I often fay, that Ifeldom repent of any thing, and that my confcience is satisfied with itfelf, not like the confcience of an angel or a horse, but that of a man, always adding this check, not a check of ceremony, but of true and genuine fubmiffion, that I fpeak by way of inquiry, and for better information, referring myself for determination purely and fimply to the common and authorifed opinions. I do not teach, I on. ly relate. The forrow which vice. attends There is no vice that is really fuch which does not offend, and which a found judgment does not blame; for there is fo manifeft a deformity and inconvenience in it, that perhaps they they are in the right who fay, that it is chiefly produced from ignorance and ftupidity; fo hard is it to imagine that a man can know it without abhorring it. Malice* fucks in the greatest part of its own venom, and itself is therewith poifoned. Vice leaves a repentance in the mind, which, like an ulcer in the flesh, is always fcratched till it bleeds; for reafon effaces all other for rows and griefs, but it begets this of repentance, which is the more grievous because it springs from within, as the internal cold and heat of agues and fevers is more intense and severe than what we feel from without. I not only hold thofe for vices (though not equally fuch) which both reafon and nature condemn, but thofe alfo which have been made fuch in the opinion of men, however falfe and erroneous, if it is authorifed by the laws and cuftom. The fatisfaction that is connect ed with a good confcience. Nor is there any virtue the practice of which does not give joy to a well-difpofed mind. There is really on inconceivable joy in a man's own breaft upon his doing good, and a generous boldness that accompanies a good confcience. A foul that is daringly vicious may perhaps arm itself with fecurity, but cannot fupply itself with this complacency and fatisfaction. It is no flight pleasure to a man to be preserved from the contagion of fo corrupt an age, and to fay to himself, whoever fhall look into my foul will not find me guilty of any man's ruin or affliction, nor of revenge or envy, nor of the public violation of the laws, nor of innovation, nor difturbance, nor of the breach of a promise though the licentioufnefs of the age has not only tolerated, but taught it to every man; yet I have not feized the estate or purfe of any French man whatsoever, but have lived only upon what is my own, both in war and in peace; nor have I fet any man to work without paying him his hire. Thefe are pleafing teftimonies of a good confcience; and this natural gladness is a great bee nefit to us, and the only reward that never fails us. and This thought is taken from, Seneca's Ep. 81, where he mentions it as a common faying of his countryman Attalus, to According Montaigne, every man ought to fit in judgment upon himself, To found the recompence of virtuous actions on the approbation of others is laying it on a foundation too uncertain and embarraffed, efpecially in fo corrupt and ignorant an age as the prefent, wherein the good opinion of the vulgar is a fcandal. Upon whom do you rely for the discovery of what is commendable? God forbid that I fhould be an honeft man according to the honourable definition which I daily fee every one givesof it, Quæ fuerunt vitia, mores funt *." The things that "were formerly reckoned vices are the manners of the "prefent age." Certain friends of mine have at times reprimanded me very frankly of their own accord, or, at my inftigation, thereby performing an office which, to a mind that is rightly formed, furpaffes all the offices of friendship, not only in utility but in kindness. I have always received them with the moft open arms of courtefy and gratitude. But to fpeak confcientiously, I have often difcovered, both in their reproaches and their praises, so much false measure, that I had not done much amifs, rather to have acted wrong than right, according to their standard. We, efpecially who lead a private life, not exposed to any other view than our own, ought to have a tribunal established in our breafts, whereby to try our actions; and, according to that, fometimes to carefs, and at other times to correct ourselves. I have my laws and my court of juftice to judge myself by, and apply myself to those more than to any other rules. I do indeed restrain my actions by thofe of other men, but do not extend them by any other rule except my own. It is only known to yourself whether you are cowardly and cruel, or loyal and devout. Others fee you not, and only form uncertain conjectures of you. They do not perceive your nature fo plainly as your art; rely not therefore upon their verdict, but stick to your own: Tuo tibi judicio eft utendum-Virtutis et vitiorum grave ipfius confcientia pondus eft; quæ fublate jacent omnia t. Make ufe of your judgment-confcience plainly fhews "the weight of virtues and vices;" take away that, all falls to the ground. But the faying, that repentance Şenec. Ep. 39, at the end. Cic. de Natura Deorum, lib. iii, cap. 35 fol |