66 have held out; but he concluded with desiring his uncle and me to pray to God for him; this being, he said, the best office that Christians can perform for one another. In speaking he happened to uncover his shoulder, and desired his uncle to cover it again, though he had a valet nearer to him: and then looking upon me, he said, Ingenui est, cui multum debeas, ei plurimum velle debere: "It is the quality "of an ingenuous mind to desire to be under still greater obligation to the person whom we are "much obliged to already." In the afternoon M. de Belot came to visit him, and taking him by the hand, said to him, "My friend, I came hither, sir, 66 on purpose to pay my debt, but I have found a A "worthy creditor, who has forgiven it me." little after, starting suddenly out of a dose, he said, "Well, well, come when it will, I wait for it with "serenity and pleasure." Words which he repeated two or three times in his illness. Afterwards as they were forcing open his mouth to take a draught, he said, turning himself to M. de Belot, An vivere tanti est? Is life worth all this ado?" In the evening death begun, indeed, at night to strike him with its arrows, and as I was at supper, he sent for me, being nothing now but skin and bones, or as he called himself, Non homo, sed species hominis: "Not And he said to a man, but of the human race." me with the utmost struggles: "My brother and "friend, God grant that I may see the imaginations "that I have just been entertained with, realised." After he had stopped a while, and laboured hard with the deepest sighs for utterance, for then the tongue was beginning plainly to deny him its last office. I said, "What were those ideas, brother?" "Great," said he, "very great." "It never hap 66 pened before," I added, "that I had not the ho"nour of being made acquainted with all your ideas; "will you not let me still enjoy that confidence?" "Yes, surely, brother," said he, "but it is not in my power to discover them; they are wonderful, "infinite, and unspeakable." There he stopped, for he could proceed no farther; insomuch, that a little before he would fain have talked to his wife; when he said to her, with the most cheerful counte nance he could put on, that he had something to tell her; and he seemed to strive to speak; but his spirits failing, he called for a little wine to raise them, but it signified nothing; for he fainted away on a sudden, and for a good while lost his sight. Being now just on the confines of death, and hearing the lamentations of his wife, he called her, and spoke thus to her: "My image, you torment yourself before the "time; won't you pity me? Take Take courage.. Ve"rily I am more in pain for what I see you suffer "than what I feel myself, and with reason, because "as for the evils which we feel of our own, it is not, "properly speaking, we who feel them, but certain "senses which God has planted in us; and, what ઃઃ we feel for others, we feel by a certain judgment "and faculty of reasoning. But I see I am going." This he said because his spirits failed him. Now being afraid that he had frighted his wife, he recovered himself and said: "I find myself inclined to "sleep good night, wife, go your ways." This was the last leave he took of her. After she was gone, "Brother," said he to me, "keep close by 66 me, if you please;" and then either feeling the darts of death come thicker and sharper, or else the force of some hot medicine which they had made him swallow, he spoke with a stronger and more audible voice, and turned himself in bed with perfect violence, so that all the company began to have some hopes, because hitherto he had been so very weak that we despaired of him. Then, amongst other things, he begged me again and again, with the greatest affection, to make room for him, so that I was afraid he was delirious. Moreover, when I had gently remonstrated to him that he was overpowered by his distemper, and that these were not the words of a man in his right senses; he did not seem to be convinced, but repeated it still more strongly. "Bro ther, brother, what, won't you give me room?” insomuch that he forced me to convince him by reason, and to say to him, that since he breathed and talked he had by consequence his place. "Yes, "yes," said he, "but that is not what I want; and "besides, say what you will, I have no longer a "being. "God will give you a better very soon," said I. "Would to God, brother," said he, "I 66 was there now; I have longed to be gone these "three days past." In this distressed state he often called to me, in order, for most part, to know whether I was near him. At length he inclined a little to rest, which confirmed us still more in our good hopes so that I went out of his chamber to congratulate thereupon with Mademoiselle de la Boetia; but about an hour after naming me once or twice, and then fetching a deep sigh, he gave up the ghost about three o'clock on Wednesday morning, the 18th of August, 1563, aged 32 years, 9 months, and 17 days. LETTER VI.* To Monseigneur Monseigneur de Montaigne. MONSEIGNEUR, IN obedience to your commands last year at your house at Montaigne, I have with my own hands put that great Spanish divine and philosopher Raymond de Sebonde into a French dress, and have as much I met with this letter by way of Dedication of Raymond Sebonde's Natural Theology, translated into French by Michael Seigneur de Montaigne, knight of the king's order, and gentleman in ordinary of his privy-chamber. Printed at Rouen by John de la Mere, an. 1641. as lay in my power stripped him of that rough mien and unpolite aspect, which he first appeared in to you; so that, in my opinion, he is comely and complaisant enough to appear in the best of company. It is possible that some delicate curious readers may perceive, that he has a little of the Gascogne turn and bias; but they may be the more ashamed of their own negligence, in suffering a person, quite a novice and a learner, to get the start of them in this work. Now, Monseigneur, it is but reason that it should be published to the world, and have the credit of your name, because what amendment and reformation it has is all owing to you. Yet I plainly perceive, that if you should please to settle accounts with him, you will be very much his debtor, since in exchange for his excellent and most religious discourses, of his sublime, and, as it were, divine conceptions, it will appear that you have only brought him words and language, a merchandise so mean and vulgar, that he who has the greatest stock of it is peradventure the worse for it. Monseigneur, I beg God to grant you a long and happy life. Your most humble and most obedient son, MICHAEL DE MONTAIGNE. N. B. Mr. Coste has inserted a letter before this, which is addressed to Mademoiselle de Paumier, but it is only a short one, of mere compliment. C. Baldwin, Printer, New Bridge-street, London. THE END. INDEX. A. ABSENCE of friends, of what utility, vol. iii. pag. 241 Abstinence, of doing, iii. 304 Absurdities, what is the greatest, ii. 268 Accidents, fatal, how easily borne by some people, i. 326-Some Accommodations of the quarrels of Montaigne's days, shameful and Accusations answered with an ironical and scoffing confession, Achaians abhorred fraud in war, i. 25 Action, forced, has neither grace nor honour, iii. 227 Actions of princes examined after their decease, i. 12-First ac- Adder, a song on, i. 258 Admiration, the foundation of philosophy, iii. 312 Admire nothing, ii. 249 Adoration, ii. 153-Of one God made man, 244 Advice, free, necessary to kings, iii. 377 Advocate, who fittest for, i. 42 Advocates, ii. 233 Ægina, the people of, had their thumbs cut off by the Athenians, Ælius Verus's answer to his wife, who reproached him for his amoure |