from day to day. After what manner they think this last sun shall perish, my author knows not; but their number of this fourth change agrees with the great conjunction of stars, that eight hundred and odd years ago, as astrologers suppose, produced great alterations and novelties in the world.

The magnificent

Quito and Cusco.

As to pomp and magnificence, in relation to which I engaged in this discourse, neither Greece, Rome, causeway betwixt nor Egypt, whether for utility, difficulty, or state, can compare any of their works with the road to be seen in Peru, made by the kings of the country, from the city of Quito to that of Cusco (three hundred leagues), straight, even, five-and-twenty paces wide, paved, and inclosed on both sides with high and beautiful walls, and along these, on the inside, two clear rivulets, bordered with a beautiful sort of a tree, which they call molly. In which work, where they met with rocks and mountains, they cut them through and made them even, and filled up pits and valleys with lime and stone to make them level. At the end of every day's journey are beautiful palaces, furnished with provisions, vestments, and arms, as well for travellers as for the armies that are to pass that way. In the estimate of this work I have reckoned the difficulty, which is particularly considerable in that place; they did not build with any stones less than ten feet square; and had no other means of carriage than by drawing their load themselves by force of arm, and knew not so much as the art of scaffolding, nor any other way of standing to their work but by throwing up earth against the building, as it rose higher, taking it away again when they had done it.

Let us return to our coaches.

The last king of

In their place, and that of all other sorts of carriage, these people caused themselves to be carried by men, and upon their shoulders. Peru carried in a This last king of Peru, the day that he was taken, was thus carried upon staves of gold, sitting in a chair of gold in the middle of his battle. As many of his chairmen as were killed, to make

chair of gold to

the midst of the field of battle.

him fall (for they wanted to take him alive), as many others took their place, so that they could never beat him down, what slaughter soever they made of those people, till a horseman, seizing upon him, brought him down.

CHAPTER VII.

OF THE INCONVENIENCE OF GREATNESS.

SINCE we cannot attain to greatness, let us revenge ourselves by railing at it; and yet it is not absolutely railing against anything to proclaim its defects, because they are to be found in all things, how beautiful or how much soever to be coveted. Greatness has in general this manifest advantage, that it can grow less when it pleases, and has very near the choice of both the one and the other condition, for a man does not fall from every height; there are several from which one may descend without falling. It does, indeed, appear to me that we value it at too high a rate, and also overvalue the resolution of those who, we have either seen or heard, have contemned it, or displaced themselves of their own accord; its essence is not so evidently commodious that a man may not, without a miracle, refuse it. I find it a very hard thing to undergo misfortunes, but to be content with a competent measure of fortune, and to avoid greatness, I think a very easy matter; 'tis methinks a virtue to which I, who am none of the wisest, could without any great endeavour arrive. What then is to be expected from them that would yet put into consideration the glory attending this refusal, wherein there may lurk worse ambition than even in the desire itself and fruition of greatness? Forasmuch as ambition never

behaves itself better, according to itself, than when it proceeds by obscure and unfrequented ways.

I incite my courage to patience, but I rein it in as much as I can from desire. I have as much to wish for

Montaigne was never ambitious of very high preferment.

as another, and allow my wishes as much liberty and indiscretion; but yet it never befell me to wish for either empire or royalty, or the eminence of high and commanding fortunes; I do not aim that way; I love myself too well. When I think of growing greater, 'tis but very moderately; and by a compelled and timorous advancement, such as is proper for me, in resolution, in prudence, in health, in beauty, and even in riches too; but supreme place, or mighty authority, oppresses my imagination, and quite contrary to the other,1 I should perhaps rather choose to be the second or third in Perigord, than the first at Paris; at least, without lying, the third at Paris than the first. I would neither dispute, a miserable unknown, with a nobleman's porter, nor make crowds open in adoration as I pass. I am trained up to a moderate condition, as well by my choice as by fortune; and have made it appear, in the whole conduct of my life and enterprises, that I have rather avoided, than otherwise, the climbing above the degree of fortune in which God placed me by my birth; all natural constitution is equally just and easy. My soul is so sneaking and mean, that I measure not good fortune by its height, but by its facility.

But if my heart be not great enough, 'tis, on the other hand, open enough to make amends, by freely laying open its weakness. Should any one put me upon comparing the life of L. Thorius Balbus, a brave man, handsome, learned, healthful, understanding, and abounding in all sorts of con veniences and pleasures, leading a quiet life, and all his own, his mind well prepared against death, superstition, pains, and other incumbrances of human necessity; dying at last in battle with his sword in his hand, for the defence of his country,

1 Julius Cæsar. See Plutarch, in Vitâ.

on the one part; and on the other part, the life of M. Regu lus, so great and high as it is known to every one, and his end admirable; the one without name and without dignity, the other exemplary and glorious to a wonder; I should doubtless say what Cicero did, could I speak as well as he.1 But if I had to decide them with reference to myself, I should then say that the first is as much according to my capacity and desire, which I conform to my capacity, as the second is far beyond it; that I could not approach the last but with veneration; the other I would readily attain by custom.

nor be com-
manded.

which was

But let us return to our temporal greatness, from which we are digressed. I disrelish all dominion, Montaigne loved whether active or passive. Otanes, one of the not to command, seven who had right to pretend to the kingdom of Persia, did as I should readily have done; that he gave up to his competitors his right of being promoted to it, either by election or lot, provided that he and his might live in the empire free from all authority and subjection, that of the ancient laws excepted, and might enjoy all liberty that was not prejudicial to these; as impatient of commanding as of being commanded.2

cult employment

The most painful and difficult employment in the world, in my opinion, is worthily to discharge the office That it is a troubof a king. I excuse more of their mistakes lesome and diffithan men commonly do, in consideration of the to command. intolerable weight of their function, which astonishes me; 'tis hard to keep measure in so immeasurable a power; yet so it is, that, even in those who are of the least excellent nature, it is a singular incitement to virtue to be seated in a place where you cannot do the least good that shall not be put upon

1 Cicero, from whom Montaigne has taken this parallel, plainly gives the preference to Regulus. Thorius, he says, wallowed in pleasures of every kind, and was a contemner of the sacrifices and temples of his country; he was a handsome man, perfectly healthy, and so valiant that he died in battle for the

cause of the republic; insomuch, adds Cicero, that I dare not name the man who was preferable to him; but virtue shall speak for me, who will not hesitate a moment to give M Regulus the preference, and to proclaim him the more happy man. De Finib. ii. 20.

2 Herod. iii. 82

record; where the least benefit goes to so many men, and where your talent, like that of preachers, principally addresses itself to the people, no very exact judge, easy to be deceived, and easily content. There are few things wherein we can give a sincere judgment, by reason that there are few wherein we have not in some sort a particular interest. Superiority and inferiority, dominion and subjection, are bound to a natural envy and contest, and must necessarily perpetually encroach upon one another. I believe neither the one nor the other touching the rights of the adverse party; let reason therefore, which is inflexible and without passion, determine. 'Tis not above a month ago that I read two Scotch authors contending upon this subject, of which he who stands for the people makes kings to be in a worse condition than a carter; and he who writes for monarchy places them some degrees above God Almighty in power and sovereignty.

Now the inconvenience of greatness, that I have made The inconvenience choice of to consider in this place, upon some of greatness. occasion that has lately put it into my head, is this. There is not, perhaps, anything more pleasant in the commerce of men than the trials that we make against one another, out of emulation of honour and valour, whether in the exercises of the body or in those of the mind; yet herein the sovereign greatness can have no true part. And, indeed, I have often thought that, through mere force of respect, men have used princes disdainfully and injuriously in that particular; for the thing I was infinitely offended at in my childhood, that they who exercised with me forbore to do their best, because they found me unworthy of their utmost endeavour, is what we see happen to them every day, every one finding himself unworthy to contend with them; if we discover that they have the least passion to have the better, there is no one who will not make it his business to give it them, and who will not rather betray his own glory than offend theirs, and will therein employ so much force only as is necessary to advance their honour. What share have they,