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ESSAYS

OF

MICHAEL SEIGNEUR DE MONTAIGNE.

CHAPTER I.

Of Repentance.

continual

OTHERS form man, I only declare what he is; The world and I represent a particular one, very indifferently subject to formed, and whom, were I to model again, I would changes. 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 universe is but one perpetual motion, in which all things are incessantly wheeled about; the earth, the rocks of Caucasus, and the pyramids of Egypt, both by the general motion, and a particular one of their own. Constancy itself is no other than a more languid motion. I cannot be sure of my object: it is always disturbed and staggering by a natural giddiness. I take it in this point as it is at the instant when I consider it. I do not paint its being, I paint its passage; not a passage from one century to another, or, as the people say, from seven years to another seven; but from day to day, from minute to minute. I must accommodate my history to the time. I may soon change not only my fortune, but also my intention. It is a true copy of various and changeable accidents, and of imaginations that are wavering, and sometimes contrary. Whether it be

VOL. III.

B

Why, and

in what

manner

undertakes

this book.

that I am not then the man I was, or that I lay hold on the subjects with other circumstances and considerations, so it is that perhaps I may plainly contradict myself; but, as Demades said, I do not contradict the truth. Could my soul once take sure footing, I would not make an attempt, but would speak definitively and peremptorily; but it is always learning and making trial.

I propose a life mean, and without lustre. It is all one; all moral philosophy is as applicable to a Montaigne vulgar and private life as to the most spendid. to speak of Every man carries the entire form of the human himself in condition. Authors communicate themselves to the people by some special and extraordinary work. I, in the first place, my universal being, as Michael de Montaigne, not as a grammarian, a poet, or a lawyer. If men complain that I speak too much of myself, I complain that they do not so much as think of themselves. But is it reasonable, that being so particular in my way of living, I should 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 so 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 stone or brick? The fancies of music are carried on by art, mine by chance. I have this at least, according to discipline, that never any man treated of a subject, whereof he was more the master, 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 subject, nor more distinctly scrutinize into its parts and consequences, nor ever more exactly and more plainly arrived at the end which he proposed to himself in his work. To finish it, I need only apply to it with the fidelity which I have therein displayed with the utmost sincerity and purity. I speak 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, me-
thinks, custom indulges my age with more liberty of
prating, as well as of indiscretion in talking of a
man's self. That cannot fall out here, which I often
observe elsewhere, that the work and the artificer
contradict each other. Has a man of so elegant a
conversation written so silly a treatise? or are such
learned writings the product of a man of so mean
conversation, whose discourse is common, and who
but seldom writes; that is to say, whose capacity is
borrowed, and not his own? A man of learning is
not learned in every thing; but the self-sufficient
man is sufficient in every thing, even in ignorance.
Here my book and I go hand in hand in one even
pace. In other cases a work may be recommended
and censured abstractedly from the workman, but
not in this. He that touches the one, touches the
other. He that shall judge of it without knowing`
him, will injure himself more than me. He who
does know him gives me all the satisfaction I desire.
I shall be more happy than I deserve, if I can only
obtain thus much from the public approbation, as to
make men of understanding sensible that I was
capable of making learning turn to my benefit if I
had it, and that I deserved to have been assisted by
a better memory.
Be pleased here to excuse what
I often say, that I seldom repent of any thing, and
that my conscience is satisfied with itself, not like
the conscience of an angel or a horse, but that of a
man, always adding this check, not a check of cere-
mony, but of true and genuine submission, that I
speak by way of inquiry, and for better information,
referring myself for determination purely and simply
to the common and authorised opinions. I do not
teach, I only relate.

tends vice,

There is no vice that is really such which does The sorrow not offend, and which a sound judgment does not which atblame; for there is so manifest a deformity and inconvenience in it, that perhaps they are in the right who say, that it is chiefly produced from ignorance

The satisfaction that

and stupidity; so hard is it to imagine that a man can know it without abhorring it. Malice sucks in the greatest part of its own venom, and itself is therewith poisoned. Vice leaves a repentance in the mind, which, like an ulcer in the flesh, is always scratched till it bleeds; for reason effaces all other sorrows 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 those for vices (though not equally such) which both reason and nature condemn, but those also which have been made such in the opinion of men, however false and erroneous, if it is authorised by the laws and custom.

Nor is there any virtue the practice of which does is connect not give joy to a well-disposed mind. There is ed with a really an inconceivable joy in a man's own breast science. upon his doing good, and a generous boldness that

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accompanies a good conscience. A soul that is daringly vicious may perhaps arm itself with security, but cannot supply itself with this complacency and satisfaction. It is no slight pleasure to a man to be preserved from the contagion of so corrupt an age, and to say to himself, whoever shall look into my soul 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 disturbance, nor of the breach of a promise: and though the licentiousness of the age has not only tolerated, but taught it to every man; yet I have not seized the estate or purse of any Frenchman whatsoever, but have lived only upon what is my own, both in war and in peace; nor have I set any man to work without paying him his hire. These are pleasing testimonies of a good conscience; and this natural gladness is a great benefit to us, and the only reward that never fails us.

This thought is taken from Seneca, ep. 81, where he mentions it as a common saying of his countryman Attalus.

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