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1588 ESSAYS by Michel Eyquem de Montaigne translated by Charles Cotton

þiElectronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R) DAK Upgraded Edition, Copyright 2000, DAK Industries 2000, Inc(R)þI {AUTHOR_TO_READER THE AUTHOR TO THE READER READER, thou hast here an honest boo ; it doth at the outset forewarn thee that, in contriving the same, I have proposed to myself no other than a domestic and private end: I have had no consideration at all either to thy service or to my glory. My powers are not capable of any such design. I have dedicated it to the particular commodity of my insfol and friends, so that, having lost me (which they must do shortly), they may therein recover some traits of my conditions and humours, and by that means preserve more whole, and more life-li e, the nowledge they had of me. Had my intention been to see the world's favour, I should surely have adorned myself with borrowed beauties: I desire therein to be viewed as I appear in mine own genuine, simple, and ordinary manner, without study and artifice: for it is myself I paint. My defects are therein to be read to the life, and my imperfections and my natural form, so far as public reverence hath permitted me. If I had lived among those nations, which (they say) yet dwell under the sweet liberty of nature's primitive laws, I assure thee I would most willingly have painted myself quite fully and quite na ed. Thus, reader, myself am the matter of my boo : there's no reason thou shouldst employ thy leisure about so frivolous and vain a subject. Therefore, farewell. From MONTAIGNE, June 12, 1580 {BK1_1 BOOK THE FIRST I. THAT MEN BY VARIOUS WAYS ARRIVE AT THE SAME END THE most usual way of appeasing the indignation of such as we have any way offended, when we see them in possession of the power of revenge, and find that we absolutely lie at their mercy, is by submission, to move them to commiseration and pity; and yet bravery, constancy, and resolution, however quite contrary means, have sometimes served to produce the same effect. Edward, Prince of Wales (the same who so long governed our Guienne, a personage whose condition and fortune have in them a great deal of the most notable and most considerable parts of grandeur), having been highly incensed by the Limousins, and ta ing their city by assault,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

was not, either by the cries of the people, or the prayers and tears of the women and children, abandoned to slaughter and prostrate at his feet for mercy, to be stayed from prosecuting his revenge; till, penetrating further into the town, he at last too notice of three French gentlemen, who with incredible bravery, alone sustained the whole power of his victorious army. Then it was that consideration and respect unto so remar able a valour first stopped the torrent of his fury, and that his clemency, beginning with these three cavaliers, was afterwards extended to all the remaining inhabitants of the city. Scanderbeg, Prince of Epirus, pursuing one of his soldiers with purpose to ill him, the soldier, having in vain tried by all the ways of humility and supplication to appease him, resolved, as his last refuge, to face about and await him sword in hand; which behaviour of his gave a sudden stop to his captain's fury, who, for seeing him assume so notable a resolution, received him into grace; an example, however, that might suffer another interpretation with such as have not read of the prodigious force and valour of that prince. The Emperor Conrad III having besieged Guelph, Du e of Bavaria, would not be prevailed upon, what mean and unmanly satisfactions soever were tendered to him, to condescend to milder conditions than that the ladies and gentlewomen only who were in the town with the du e might go out without violation of their honour, on foot, and with so much only as they could carry about them. Whereupon they, out of magnanimity of heart, presently contrived to carry out, upon their shoulders, their husbands and children, and the du e himself; a sight at which the emperor was so pleased, that, ravished with the generosity of the action, he wept for joy, and immediately extinguishing in his heart the mortal and capital hatred he had conceived against this du e, he from that time forward treated him and his with all humanity. The one and the other of these two ways would with great facility wor upon my nature; for I have a marvellous propensity to mercy and mildness, and to such a degree that I fancy of the two I should sooner surrender my anger to compassion than to esteem. And yet pity is reputed a vice amongst the Stoics, who will that we succour the afflicted, but not that we should be so affected with their sufferings as to suffer with them. I conceived these examples not ill suited to the question in hand, and the rather because therein we observe these great souls assaulted and tried by these two several ways, to resist the one without relenting, and to be shoo and subjected by the other. It may be true that to suffer a man's heart to be totally subdued by compassion may be imputed facility, effeminacy, and over-tenderness; whence it comes to pass that the wea er natures, as of women, children, and the common sort of people, are the most subject to it; but after having resisted and disdained the power of groans and tears, to yield to the sole reverence of the sacred image of Valour, this can be no other than the effect of a strong and inflexible soul enamoured of and honouring masculine and obstinate courage. Nevertheless, astonishment and admiration may, in less generous minds beget a li e effect: witness the people of Thebes, who, having put two of their generals upon trial for their lives for having continued in arms beyond the precise term of their commission, very hardly pardoned Pelopidas, who, bowing under the weight of so dangerous an accusation, made no manner of defence for himself, nor produced other arguments than prayers and supplications; whereas, on the contrary, Epaminondas, falling to recount magniloquently the exploits he had performed in their service, and, after a haughty and arrogant manner reproaching them with ingratitude and injustice, they had not the heart to proceed any

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

further in his trial, but bro e up the court and departed, the whole assembly highly commending the high courage of this personage. Dionysius the elder, after having, by a tedious siege and through exceeding great difficulties, ta en the city of Reggio, and in it the governor Phyton, a very gallant man, who had made so obstinate a defence, was resolved to ma e him a tragical example of his revenge: in order whereunto he first told him, "That he had the day before caused his son and all his indred to be drowned." To which Phyton returned no other answer but this: "That they were then by one day happier than he." After which, causing him to be stripped, and delivering him into the hands of the tormentors, he was by them not only dragged through the streets of the town, and most ignominiously and cruelly whipped, but moreover villified with most bitter and contumelious language: yet still he maintained his courage entire all the way, with a strong voice and undaunted countenance proclaiming the honourable and glorious cause of his death; namely, for that he would not deliver up his country into the hands of a tyrant; at the same time denouncing against him a speedy chastisement from the offended gods. At which Dionysius, reading in his soldiers' loo s, that instead of being incensed at the haughty language of this conquered enemy, to the contempt of their captain and his triumph, they were not only struc with admiration of so rare a virtue, but moreover inclined to mutiny, and were even ready to rescue the prisoner out of the hangman's hands, he caused the torturing to cease, and afterwards privately caused him to be thrown into the sea. {BK1_1 ^paragraph 5} Man (in good earnest) is a marvellous vain, fic le, and unstable subject, and on whom it is very hard to form any certain and uniform judgment. For Pompey could pardon the whole city of the Mamertines, though furiously incensed against it, upon the single account of the virtue and magnanimity of one citizen, Zeno, who too the fault of the public wholly upon himself; neither entreated other favour, but alone to undergo the punishment for all: and yet Sylla's host, having in the city of Perugia manifested the same virtue, obtained nothing by it, either for himself or his fellow-citizens. And, directly contrary to my first examples, the bravest of all men, and who was reputed so gracious to all those he overcame, Alexander, having, after many great difficulties, forced the city of Gaza, and, entering, found Betis, who commanded there, and of whose valour in the time of this siege he had most marvellous manifest proof, alone, forsa en by all his soldiers, his armour hac ed and hewed to pieces, covered all over with blood and wounds, and yet still fighting in the crowd of a number of Macedonians, who were laying on him on all sides, he said to him, nettled at so dear-bought a victory (for, in addition to the other damage, he had two wounds newly received in his own person), "Thou shalt not die, Betis, as thou dost intend; be sure thou shalt suffer all the torments that can be inflicted on a captive." To which menace the other returning no other answer, but only a fierce and disdainful loo ; "What," says Alexander, observing his haughty and obstinate silence, "is he too stiff to bend a nee! Is he too proud to utter one suppliant word! Truly, I will conquer this silence; and if I cannot force a word from his mouth, I will, at least, extract a groan from his heart." And thereupon converting his anger into fury, presently commanded his heels to be bored through, causing him, alive, to be dragged, mangled, and dismembered at a cart's tail. Was it that the height of courage was so natural and familiar to this conqueror, that because he could not admire, he respected it the less? Or was it that he conceived valour to be a virtue so peculiar to himself, that

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

   

his pride could not, without envy, endure it in another? Or was it that the natural impetuosity of his fury was incapable of opposition? Certainly, had it been capable of moderation, it is to be believed that in the sac and desolation of Thebes, to see so many valiant men, lost and totally destitute of any further defence, cruelly massacred before his eyes, would have appeased it: where there were above six thousand put to the sword, of whom not one was seen to fly, or heard to cry out for quarter; but, on the contrary, every one running here and there to see out and to provo e the victorious enemy to help them to an honourable end. Not one was seen who, however wea ened with wounds, did not in his last gasp yet endeavour to revenge himself, and with all the arms of a brave despair, to sweeten his own death in the death of an enemy. Yet did their valour create no pity, and the length of one day was not enough to satiate the thirst of the conqueror's revenge, but the slaughter continued to the last drop of blood that was capable of being shed, and stopped not till it met with none but unarmed persons, old men, women, and children, of them to carry away to the number of thirty thousand slaves. {BK1_2 II. OF SORROW NO man living is more free from this passion than I, who yet neither li e it in myself nor admire it in others, and yet generally the world, as a settled thing, is pleased to grace it with a particular esteem, clothing therewith wisdom, virtue, and conscience. Foolish and sordid guise! The Italians have more fitly baptized by this name malignity; for 'tis a quality always hurtful, always idle and vain; and as being cowardly, mean, and base, it is by the Stoics expressly and particularly forbidden to their sages. But the story * says that Psammenitus, King of Egypt, being defeated and ta en prisoner by Cambyses, King of Persia, seeing his own daughter pass by him as prisoner, and in a wretched habit, with a buc et to draw water, though his friends about him were so concerned as to brea out into tears and lamentations, yet he himself remained unmoved, without uttering a word, his eyes fixed upon the ground; and seeing, moreover, his son immediately after led to execution, still maintained the same countenance; till spying at last one of his domestic and familiar friends dragged away amongst the captives, he fell to tearing his hair and beating his breast, with all the other extravagances of extreme sorrow. * Herodotus, iii. A story that may very fitly be coupled with another of the same ind, of recent date, of a prince of our own nation, who being at Trent, and having news there brought him of the death of his elder brother, a brother on whom depended the whole support and honour of his house, and soon after of that of a younger brother, the second hope of his family, and having withstood these two assaults with an exemplary resolution; one of his servants happening a few days after to die, he suffered his constancy to be overcome by this last accident; and, parting with his courage, so abandoned himself to sorrow and mourning, that some from thence were forward to conclude that he was only touched to the quic by this last stro e of fortune; but, in truth, it was, that being before brimful of grief, the least addition overflowed the bounds of all patience. Which, I thin , might also be said of the former example, did not the story proceed to tell us that Cambyses as ing Psammenitus, "Why, not being moved at the calamity of his son and daughter, he should with so great impatience

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

bear the misfortune of his friend?" "It is," answered he, "because only this last affliction was to be manifested by tears, the two first far exceeding all manner of expression." And, peradventure, something li e this might be wor ing in the fancy of the ancient painter, who having, in the sacrifice of Iphigenia, to resent the sorrow of the assistants proportionably to the several degrees of interest every one had in the death of this fair innocent virgin, and having, in the other figures, lain out to the utmost power of his art, when he came to that of her father, he drew him with a veil over his face, meaning thereby that no ind of countenance was capable of expressing such a degree of sorrow. Which is also the reason why the poets feign the miserable mother, Niobe, having first lost seven sons, and then afterwards as many daughters (overwhelmed with her losses), to be at last transformed into a roc , {BK1_2 ^paragraph 5} Diriguisse malis, * thereby to express that melancholic, dumb and deaf stupefaction, which benumbs all our faculties, when oppressed with accidents greater than we are able to bear. And, indeed the violence and impression of an excessive grief must of necessity astonish the soul, and wholly deprive her of her ordinary functions: as it happens to every one of us, who, upon any sudden alarm of very ill news, find ourselves surprised, stupefied, and in a manner deprived of all power of motion, so that the soul, beginning to vent itself in tears and lamentations, seems to free and disengage itself from the sudden oppression, and to have obtained some room to wor itself out at greater liberty. Et via vix tandem voci laxata dolore est. *(2) * Petrified with her misfortunes.- Ovid, Met., vi. *(2) And at length and with difficulty is a passage opened by grief for words.- Aeneid, xi. {BK1_2 ^paragraph 10} In the war that Ferdinand made upon the widow of King John of Hungary, about Buda, a man-at-arms was particularly ta en notice of by every one for his singular gallant behaviour in a certain encounter; and, un nown, highly commended, and lamented, being left dead upon the place: but by none so much as by Raisciac, a German lord, who was infinitely enamoured of so rare a valour. The body being brought off, and the count, with the common curiosity coming to view it, the armour was no sooner ta en off but he immediately new him to be his own son, a thing that added a second blow to the compassion of all the beholders; only he, without uttering a word, or turning away his eyes from the woeful object, stood fixedly contemplating the body of his son, till the vehemency of sorrow having overcome his vital spirits, made him sin down stone-dead to the ground. Chi puo dir com' egli arde, e in picciol fuoco, * say the Innamoratos, when they would represent an insupportable passion, Misero quod omnes Eripit sensus mihi. Nam simul te, Lesbia, aspexi, nihil est super mi, Quod loquar amens. Lingua sed torpet: tenuis sub artus

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flamma dimanat; sonitu suopte Tinniunt aures; gemina teguntur Lumina nocte. *(2) * He who can express in words the ardour of his love, has but little love to express.- Petrarch, Son. {BK1_2 ^paragraph 15} *(2) Love deprives me of all my faculties: Lesbia, when once in thy presence, I have not left the power to tell my distracting passion: my tongue becomes torpid; a subtle flame creeps through my veins; my ears tingle in deafness; my eyes are veiled with dar ness.- Catullus, Epig., li. 5. Neither is it in the height and greatest fury of the fit that we are in a condition to pour out our complaints or our amorous persuasions, the soul being at that time overburdened, and labouring with profound thoughts; and the body dejected and languishing with desire; and thence it is that sometimes proceed those accidental impotencies that so unseasonably surprise the lover, and that frigidity which by the force of an immoderate ardour seizes him even in the very lap of fruition. For all passions that suffer themselves to be relished and digested are but moderate. Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent. * * Light griefs can spea : deep sorrows are dumb.- Seneca, Hippol., ii. A surprise of unexpected joy does li ewise often produce the same effect: {BK1_2 ^paragraph 20} Ut me conspexit venientem, et Troja circum. Arma amens vidit, magnis exterrita monstris, Diriguit visu in medio, calor ossa reliquit, Labitur, et longo vix tandem tempore fatur. * * When she beheld me advancing, and saw, with stupefaction, the Trojan arms around me, terrified so great a prodigy, she fainted away at the very sight: vital warmth forsoo her limbs: she sin s down, and, after a long interval, with difficulty spea s.- Aeneid, iii. Besides the examples of the Roman lady, who died for joy to see her son safe returned from the defeat of Cannae; and of Sophocles and of Dionysius the Tyrant, who died of joy; and of Thalna, who died in Corsica, reading news of the honours the Roman Senate had decreed in his favour, we have, moreover, one in our time, of Pope Leo X, who, upon news of the ta ing of Milan, a thing he had so ardently desired, was rapt with so sudden an excess of joy that he immediately fell into a fever and died. And for a more notable testimony of the imbecility of human nature it is recorded by the ancients that Diodorus the dialectician died upon the spot, out of an extreme passion of shame, for not having been able in his own school, and in the presence of a great auditory, to disengage himself from a nice argument that was propounded to him. I, for my part, am very little subject to these violent passions; I am naturally of a stubborn apprehension, which also, by reasoning, I every day harden and fortify. {BK1_3 III. THAT OUR AFFECTIONS CARRY THEMSELVES BEYOND US

 

 

 

   

 

 

SUCH as accuse man ind of the folly of gaping after future things, and advise us to ma e our benefit of those which are present, and to set up our rest upon them, as having no grasp upon that which is to come, even less than that which we have upon what is past, have hit upon the most universal of human errors, if that may be called an error to which nature herself has disposed us, in order to the continuation of her own wor , prepossessing us, amongst several others, with this deceiving imagination, as being more jealous of our action than afraid of our nowledge. We are never present with, but always beyond ourselves: fear, desire, hope, still push us on towards the future, depriving us, in the meantime, of the sense and consideration of that which is to amuse us with the thought of what shall be, even when we shall be no more. Calamitosus est animus futuri anxius. * * Mind anxious about the future is unhappy.- Seneca, Epist. We find this great precept often repeated in Plato, "Do thine own wor , and now thyself." Of which two parts, both the one and the other generally comprehend our whole duty, and do each of them in li e manner involve the other; for who will do his own wor aright will find that his first lesson is to now what he is, and that which is proper to himself; and who rightly understands himself will never mista e another man's wor for his own, but will love and improve himself above all other things, will refuse superfluous employments, and reject all unprofitable thoughts and propositions. As folly, on the one side, though it should enjoy all it desire, would notwithstanding never be content, so, on the other, wisdom, acquiescing in the present, is never dissatisfied with itself. Epicurus dispenses his sages from all foresight and care of the future. Amongst those laws that relate to the dead, I loo upon that to be very sound, by which the actions of princes are to be examined after their decease. They are equals with, if not masters of the laws, and, therefore, what justice could not inflict upon their persons, 'tis but reason should be executed upon their reputations and the estates of their successors- things that we often value above life itself. 'Tis a custom of singular advantage to those countries where it is in use, and by all good princes to be desired, who have reason to ta e it ill, that the memories of the wic ed should be used with the same reverence and respect with their own. We owe subjection and obedience to all our ings, whether good or bad, ali e, for that has respect unto their office; but as to esteem and affection, these are only due to their virtue. Let us grant to political government to endure them with patience, however unworthy; to conceal their vices; and to assist them with our recommendation in their indifferent actions, whilst their authority stands in need of our support. But, the relation of prince and subject being once at an end, there is no reason we should deny the expression of our real opinions to our own liberty and common justice, and especially to interdict to good subjects the glory of having reverently and faithfully served a prince, whose imperfections were to them so well nown; this were to deprive posterity of a useful example. And such as, out of respect to some private obligation, unjustly espouse and vindicate the memory of a faulty prince, do private right at the expense of public justice. Livy does very truly say, "That the language of men bred up in courts is always full of vain ostentation and false testimony, every one indifferently magnifying his own master, and stretching his commendation to the utmost extent of virtue and sovereign grandeur." Some may condemn the

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

because never so till after he is no more. of his tyrannies and abominable deportment. * by this means attributing to his quality the praise that only belongs to merit. ma es a quaere upon the saying of Solon. can be said to be happy!" Whilst we have life and motion. even in dying. can reprove them? {BK1_3 ^paragraph 5} * Tacitus. who will still have a hand in everything. whither and to what we please. if he have left an ill repute behind him. most of the army were of opinion to demand safe-conduct from the Veronese." answered he. and to run the hazard of a                         . he who has lived and died according to his heart's desire. et eicit Sed facit esse sui quiddam super inscius ipse. that none can be said to be happy until he be dead: "whether. xv. "I could thin of no other remedy against thy perpetual mischiefs. I hate thee as thou dost deserve. dying at the siege of the Castle of Randon. "whilst thou wert worthy of it. cut and slashed their foreheads in to en of sorrow. Annal.Lucretius." said he. and all sorts and degrees of men and women. Nec removet satis a projecto corpore sese. and that his posterity be miserable. both of him and all other wic ed princes li e him)." * But the public and universal testimonies that were given of him after his death (and so will be to all posterity. * Herodotus. near unto Puy. then. though lodged in the lowest and most inferior subject. the besieged were afterwards. but Theodoro Trivulsio opposed the motion. who. I am scandalized. et Vindicat. and his corpse being to be carried through the territory of Verona. as well as their slaves. but once out of being.. Aristotle. that in so sacred a government as that of the Lacedaemonians there should be mixed so hypocritical a ceremony at the interment of their ings. an enemy's country. we convey ourselves by fancy and pre-occupation. and a coachman. the one being as ed by him why he bore him ill-will? "I loved thee. in Auvergne. a player. we have no more any manner of communication with that which is. of a sound judgment." And the other. enjoined to lay down the eys of the place upon the corpse of the dead general.. an incendiary. repeating in their cries and lamentations that that ing (let him have been as wic ed as the devil) was the best that ever they had. upon surrender. wholly detach himself from the idea of life. where all their confederates and neighbours. and it had therefore been better said by Solon that man is never happy. happening to die in the service of the Republic in Brescia. in his ignorance he must needs imagine that there is in him something that survives him. and cannot sufficiently separate or emancipate himself from his prostrate carcase.freedom of those two soldiers who so roundly answered Nero to his beard. iii. rather choosing to ma e his way by force of arms. * {BK1_3 ^paragraph 10} * Scarcely one man can. Bartholomew d' Alviano. why he should attempt to ill him? "Because. vi. Bertrand de Glesquin. the Venetian general. but since thou art become a parricide. and that of right is due to supreme desert. Quisquam Vix radicitus e vita se tollit.

and that Agesilaus. and. These things might appear strange. to see him in that posture. King of Scotland. the relics of valiant men who have died in battle. he commanded his steward to set him down at the foot of a tree. but these attribute to them a certain present and active power. but has also. Agesilaus. how familiar soever. which was. still fought on. and would steal aside to               . having in the long wars betwixt him and Robert. reserving the bones to carry continually with him in his army. having ever been victorious in whatever he undertoo in his own person. in consideration of the victories they had formerly obtained under his conduct. carried with them the bones of one of their captains. accordingly. The Emperor Maximilian. to fancy that the favour of Heaven does not only very often accompany us to the grave. who. as if destiny had inevitably attached victory even to his remains. great-grandfather to the now King Philip. In truth. The proceeding of Captain Bayard is of a better composition. left order that they should flay him after his death. in vindication of Wicliffe's heresies. And other people of the same New World carry about with them. In li e manner certain of the Indians. which he did. King of England. By this means it was that Nicias lost the advantage he had visibly obtained over the Corinthians. by the Gree laws. and bury the flesh. Nicias. bound his son. he who made suit to an enemy for a body to give it burial renounced his victory. and of his s in ma e a drum to carry in the war against his enemies. Of which there are so many ancient examples (to say nothing of those of our own observation) that it is not necessary I should longer insist upon it. fancying it would contribute to the continuation of the successes he had always obtained in the wars against them. to incite their courage and advance their fortune. and he to whom such suit was made was reputed victor. but so that he might die with his face towards the enemy. in affairs of the same nature. that so soon as he should be dead he should boil his body till the flesh parted from the bones. and amongst the rest with a singular beauty of person. Of which examples the first reserve nothing for the tomb but the reputation they have acquired by their former achievements. who for the despatch of their most important affairs convert their close-stool into a chair of State. and had no more right to erect a trophy. so often as he should be obliged to go against the Scots. the same who. finding himself wounded to death with a harquebuse shot. troubled the Bohemian state. was a prince endowed throughout with great and extraordinary qualities. had experience of how great importance his own immediate presence was to the success of his affairs. but had withal a humour very contrary to that of other princes. {BK1_3 ^paragraph 15} I must yet add another example. in their wars. assured that he had before very doubtfully gained over the Boeotians. on the contrary. * * Plutarch. had it not been a general practice in all ages not only to extend the concern of ourselves beyond this life. saying it was by no means fit that he who in his life was never afraid of his enemies should seem to apprehend them when he was dead. made answer that he would not begin at the last gasp to turn his bac to the enemy. in their battles with the Spaniards. when he came to die. Edward I. and being importuned to retire out of the fight. a concern for our ashes. in a solemn oath. moreover. but. even after life. that he would never permit any of his bed-chamber. John Zisca. equally remar able for the present consideration with any of the former. till feeling himself too faint and no longer able to sit his horse.battle.

of a relation of mine.ma e water as religiously as a virgin. Is it yet temperance and frugality to avoid expense and pleasure of which the use and nowledge are imperceptible to us? See. and as to his funeral. and the appointment of Marcus Emilius Lepidus. and are pleased with beholding their own dead                 . coming to die in a very old age. *(3) If I were to concern myself beyond the present about this affair. he would have done well to have added that he should be blindfolded. who. magis sunt vivorum solatia. and presenting before him several reasons and examples to prove that it was a respect due to a man of his condition." said he. pompa exsequiarum. especially of my profession. for both his historian and himself. I do not want domestic example). The charge that Cyrus left with his children. nevertheless. he spent the last hours of his life in an extraordinary solicitude about ordering the honour and ceremony of his funeral. I should be of opinion that in this. conditio sepulturae. I attribute to some superstitious devotion of his. here. to order it neither too superfluous nor too mean. as ed him how he would be buried: "How you will. and shall. Another. as the greatest satisfaction of this ind. should either see or touch his body after the soul was departed from it. importuning this very prince. * and it was a holy saying of a saint. wherein I suffer more constraint than I conceive is very well becoming a man. For my part. with a most earnest supplication that he would order his family to be there. that neither they. seems to be somewhat a in to this. to which. I scarcely ever communicate to the sight of any. either those parts or actions that custom orders us to conceal. too. nor any other. I see this humour commended. at the hour of his death. an easy and cheap reformation. though contrary curiosity (of which singularity. when the time comes. But he nourished this modest humour to such a degree of superstition as to give express orders in his last will that they should put on him drawers so soon as he should be dead. accordingly leave it to their discretion. also. who have so impudent a way of tal ing. *(2) Which made Socrates answer Crito. I should be most tempted. and the philosopher Lycon prudently ordered his friends to dispose of his body where they should thin most fit. If instruction were at all necessary in this case. Curatio funeris. that a man shall cudgel his brains at the last moments of his life. of excessive pain of the stone. to contrive his obsequies to so particular and unusual a parsimony as of one servant with a lantern. naturally so modest this way. am. who forbade his heirs to bestow upon his hearse even the common ceremonies in use upon such occasions. to whose lot it shall fall to do me that last office. non negligendus in nostris. that. strewed the whole course of their lives with a singular respect and reverence to religion. I have seldom heard of so persistent a vanity. to imitate those who in their lifetime entertain themselves with the ceremony and honours of their own obsequies beforehand. methin s. that unless at the importunity of necessity or pleasure. pressing all the men of condition who came to see him to engage their word to attend him to his grave. and seemed to die content. and appointed the method and order of his funeral parade. as in all other actions of life. I was by no means pleased with a story. told me by a man of very great quality. amongst their great qualities. I should wholly refer the ordering of this ceremony to custom. each person should regulate the matter according to his fortune. that put them on. and one who had given a very good account of himself both in peace and war. who came to visit him at his last gasp. Totus hic locus est contemnendus in nobis. shy to discover either to his physician or any other whomsoever those parts that we are accustomed to conceal. having obtained this promise. quam subsidia mortuorum. I myself.

as it is said.Cicero. And the execution is yet rendered more odious by the behaviour of Diomedon. and a man of most eminent virtue. Phaedo. punished them in the same ind. but not to be neglected by our friends. beseeching the gods to convert this sentence to their good. who. for Chabrias. without remission.... and the flesh of venison. Happy are they who can gratify their senses by insensibility. {BK1_3 ^paragraph 20} *(3) Plato. corpus requiescat a malis. for neglecting to fulfil the vows which he and his companions had made (with which he also acquainted them) in ac nowledgment of so glorious a success. totally lost the fruits of his victory. they might not draw down the indignation of the gods upon them. and its taste according to the laws of the living flesh of its ind. * As nature demonstrates to us that several dead things retain yet an occult relation to life: wine changes its flavour and complexion in cellars. political and military. *(2) The care of funerals. no audience till then having been allowed. i. -               . remissa humana vita. a few years after. according to the changes and seasons of the vine from whence it came. Augustine. put to death their brave captains newly returned triumphant from a naval victory they had obtained over the Lacedaemonians near the Arginusian Isles. Quaes. or once vouchsafing to hear what they had to say for themselves. after having heard the sentence. or the impiety of so cruel a sentence. loco? Quo non nata jacent. because (after the victory) they followed up the blow and pursued the advantages presented to them by the rule of war. and praying that. only expressed a solicitude for his judges' preservation. alters its condition in the powdering-tub. rather than stay to gather up and bury their dead. the most bloody and obstinate engagement that ever the Gree s fought at sea. so oft as I call to mind the inhuman injustice of the people of Athens. being one of the condemned. the pomps of obsequies. advancing to spea . and live by their death! * The place of our sepulture is wholly to be contemned by us. who afterwards made them pay dear for this unseasonable superstition. gave opportunity to a world of living enemies to sail away in safety. post obitum. at the Isle of Naxos. though I thin it the most natural and equitable of all. quo recipiatur. captain-general of their naval forces. Admiral of Sparta.. the place of sepulture. City of God. Troa. are rather consolations to the living than any benefit to the dead. {BK1_3 ^paragraph 25} This other restores the sense of repose to a body without a soul: Neque sepulcrum. Quaeris.. in order not to incur the danger of this example. quo jaceas. i. ii.Seneca. instead of laying before them his own cause. I am ready to conceive an implacable hatred against all popular domination.St. * * Dost as where thou shalt lie when dead? Where things not born lie. Fortune. one of very great importance to their affairs. habeat: portum corporis. having got the better of Pollis. and so without more words went courageously to his death. and so that he should not lose a few bodies of his dead friends that were floating in the sea. who. that never being had.countenance in marble. ubi. Tusc.

being importuned by his physicians totally to abstain from all manner of salt meats. But. as she flies. nisi robore densae Occurrant Sylvae. inclines rather tn deceive itself. Plutarch says of those who are delighted with little dogs and mon eys. if not supplied with something to oppose it. by creating a false and fantastical subject. to ma e a pleasant prospect. and are dispersed in empty space. quarrel with something else. in good earnest. Se rotat in vulnus. rather than lie idle. their great captains. and that railing at and cursing. was some mitigation to his pain. says that for the loss of the two brothers. contorts it. than not to have something to wor upon. of the ing. a haven for his body. when not confined by dense woods.. in its passions. And we see that the soul. pleasantly. and as also that. * * As winds lose their force. and another the dried tongues and the hams. telumque irata receptum Impetit. being gone. made fiercer by the wound from the Libyan's thong-hurled dart. that with an unluc y bullet have slain your beloved brother... * {BK1_4 ^paragraph 5} * As the bear.* Nor let him have a sepulchre wherein he may be received. where.Ennius. After this manner brute beasts direct their fury to fall upon the stone or weapon that has hurt them. and goes by the wind. turns its violence upon itself.. turns round upon the wound. * 'Tis a common practice. that we may have something to quarrel with? It is not those beautiful tresses you tear. vi. What causes of the misadventures that befall us do we not invent? what is it that we do not lay the fault to. nor is it the white bosom that in your anger you so unmercifully beat. Cui jaculum parva Lybis amentavit habena. et secum fugientem circuit hastam. but have some bound and object to limit and circumscribe it at a reasonable distance. {BK1_4 IV. spea ing of the Roman army in Spain. even contrary to its own belief. Flere omnes repente. right or wrong. that the amorous part that is in us. was wont pleasantly to reply. Quaes. for want of a legitimate object. et offensare capita. So it seems that the soul. the sight should not be lost and dilated in vague air. i. spatio diffusus inani. Livy. as the arm when it is advanced to stri e. and therefore always requires an object at which to aim and whereon to act. marvellously tormented with the gout. And the philosopher Bion said. Ventus ut amittit vires. and with their teeth even execute revenge upon themselves for the injury they have received from another: Pannonis haud aliter post ictum saevior ursa. in Cicero.Lucan. does after that manner forge and create one false and frivolous. iii. and attac ing the received spear. Tusc. who by handfuls pulled his hair off his head for sorrow. that in the extremity of his fits he must needs have something to quarrel with. THAT THE SOUL DISCHARGES HER PASSIONS UPON FALSE OBJECTS. that body may rest freed from its woes. "Does this man                 . it pains us. if it miss the blow. being transported and discomposed. WHERE THE TRUE ARE WANTING A GENTLEMAN of my country. one while the Bologna sausages.Lucan.

they said. concluded a truce for some days. and less than he was afterwards when. made proclamation that for ten years to come no one should pray to Him. crying out. WHETHER THE GOVERNOR OF A PLACE BESIEGED OUGHT HIMSELF TO GO OUT TO PARLEY QUINTUS MARCIUS. Wherein he was still less excusable than the former. King of Macedon. but in truth such actions as these have in them still more of presumption than want of wit. * {BK1_4 ^paragraph 10} * We must not trouble the gods with our affairs. or at least Fortune. or so much as mention Him throughout his dominions. * They all at once wept. for the fright it had put him into passing over it. believe in Him. with which the ing being lulled asleep. They are vices that always go together. by which they meant to paint not so much the folly as the vainglory of the nation of which this tale was told. On the Tranquillity of the Soul. li e the Thracians. and very often assigned both the hour and place of battle. neither by pretended flight nor unexpected rallies to overcome their enemies. Yet the elder senators. having lost a battle under Quintilius Varus in Germany. who when it thunders or lightens. fell to defying Neptune. which was afterwards the occasion of the ing's final ruin. never ma ing war till having first proclaimed it. the Roman legate in the war against Persius. to gain time wherein to reinforce his army. I remember there was a story current.Plutarch.. and tore their hair. was to fight by valour. invading God Himself. to revenge himself of the river Gyndas. deposed his statue from the place it had amongst the other deities.Livy. Out of this generous principle it was that they delivered up                   . fall to shooting against heaven with Titanian vengeance. "O Varus! give me bac my legions!" for these exceed all folly. or. {BK1_5 V. condemned this proceeding as degenerating from their ancient practice. Though the ancient poet in Plutarch tells us: Point ne se faut couroucer aux affaires. surprises. in rage and despair he went running his head against the wall. as if by flights of arrows they intended to bring God to reason.. forasmuch as impiety is joined therewith. Il ne leur chault de toutes nos choleres. which. so far as his authority went. Augustus Caesar. and. when I was a boy. to be revenged. and. Cyrus employed a whole army. and not by artifice. in order to it. having been tossed with a tempest at sea. mindful of their forefathers' manners. But we can never enough decry the disorderly sallies of our minds. and night-encounters. as if she had ears that were subject to our batteries. and Caligula demolished a very beautiful palace for the pleasure his mother had once enjoyed there. by this means giving his enemy opportunity and leisure to recruit his forces. xxv. they ta e no heed of our angers and disputes. set on foot some overtures of accommodation. several days at wor . in the pomp of the Circensian games. swore he would be revenged. that one of our neighbouring ings having received a blow from the hand of God.thin that baldness is a remedy for grief?" Who has not seen peevish gamesters chew and swallow the cards and swallow the dice in revenge for the loss of their money? Xerxes whipped the sea. and wrote a challenge to Mount Athos.

and nothing allied to the Grecian subtlety. ii. as to this. what ammunitions. * * Whether you or I shall rule. but he only confesses himself overcome who nows he is neither subdued by policy nor misadventure. to go out to parley. man to man. in a time of siege. Deceit may serve for a need. but by dint of valour. salva fide et integra dignitate. i. if their enemies do not yield and come to an agreement. the most usual occasions of surprise are derived from this practice.. {BK1_5 ^paragraph 5} Vosne velit. i. become a general rule amongst the martial men of these latter times. and to have his eye so much at watch. parabitur. not reputing it a victory unless where the courage of the enemy was fairly subdued. says Polybius. adding withal an ample declaration of what means they have to do it with. with what and how many men. by the discourse of these good old senators. do it in such manner that the safety and advantage should be on his side. quae. quis in hoste requirat? * * What matters whether by valour or by stratagem we overcome the enemy?. Eam vir sanctus et sapiens sciet veram esse victoriam. This was. where it was reputed a victory of less glory to overcome by force than by fraud. were so highly censured. and to the Etrurians their disloyal schoolmaster. an me. The Achaians. and we hold that there are no moments wherein a chief ought to be more circumspect.to Pyrrhus his treacherous physician. * says another. quidve ferat. It was for this that in our fathers' days the Seigneurs de Montmord and de l'Assigni. amongst those nations which we so broadly call barbarians. an virtus. But yet. in Cicero.. abhorred all manner of double-dealing in war.Ennius. for Guicciardini             . regnare hera. a procedure truly Roman. they conceive it lawful to employ without reproach in their wars any means which may help them to conquer. we must e e it out with a bit from that of the fox". De Offic. defending Mouson against the Count de Nassau. The ancient Florentines were so far from see ing to obtain any advantage over their enemies by surprise. * An honest and prudent man will ac nowledge that only to be a true victory which is obtained without violation of his own good faith. notwithstanding.. should. by the continual tolling of a bell they called Martinella. indeed. and it is. it would be excusable in that governor who. For what concerns ourselves. that they always gave them a month's warning before they drew their army into the field. in a fair and just war. and who attribute the honour of the war to him who has the profit of it. let us determine by valour. In the ingdom of Ternate. fors virtute experiamur. and who after Lysander * say. that this fine sentence was not yet received amongst them: Dolus. It very well appears. who are not so scrupulous in this affair. therefore. but also that being done. or blemish upon his own honour. nor to the Punic cunning. as those of parleys and treaties of accommodation. "Where the lion's s in is too short.Aeneid. or what shall happen. that a governor of a place never ought. and what. arms.Florus. going out. as Count Guido di Rangone did at Reggio (if we are to believe Bellay. both offensive and defensive. they have a custom never to commence war till it be first proclaimed.

I could. Eumenes. who being besieged by the English in the Castle of Commercy. peradventure. as he sent him word it was fit he should to a greater man than himself. to the licence of a victorious army. the practice of arms in these days is quite another thing. Eumenes. {BK1_6 VI." and would not consent to come out to him till first according to his own demand. relying upon his honour. and by him importuned to come out to spea with him. he requested the said Henry to come out to spea with him for his own good. who commanded at the leaguer. and his ruin being made apparent to him. for that during a treaty of accommodation. and.says it was he himself) when the Seigneur de l'Escut approached to parley. on the word of the assailant: witness Henry de Vaux. a cavalier of Champagne. and Bartholomew de Brunes. but the castle was immediately blown up from its foundations. Lysander. in another age. a place not far from my house. that a disorder happening in the interim of parley. and others of their party. not only Monsieur de l'Escut and his party who were advanced with him. to secure himself from the danger of the shot within the walls of the town. which he did with three more in company. {BK1_5 ^paragraph 10} * Plutarch. that nothing remained but setting fire to the props to bury the besieged under the ruins. and even then the conqueror has enough to do to eep his word: so hazardous a thing it is to intrust the observation of the faith a man has engaged to a town that surrenders upon easy and favourable conditions. but. being shut up in the city of Nora by Antigonus. having lost his time in           . "Tell him. insomuch that Alessandro de Trivulcio was there slain. found themselves by much the wea er. highly complained of treachery. THAT THE HOUR OF PARLEY IS DANGEROUS I SAW. who stepped so little away from his fort. returned this noble answer." said he. and fire being presently applied to the mine. the Roman praetor. with great facility. and in the very interim that their deputies were treating. notwithstanding. and do. lately at Mussidan. and to give the soldier free entrance into it in the heat of blood. rely upon the faith of another. that those who were driven out thence by our army. Antigonus had delivered him his own nephew Ptolomeus in hostage. and one who had now an advantage over him. having so sapped the greatest part of the castle without. * * Idem. might have had some colour of foul play. but I should very unwillingly do it in such a case. to whose discretion he and his garrison surrendered themselves. the props no sooner began to fail. and there is now no confidence in an enemy excusable till the treaty is finally sealed. no one stone being left upon another. And yet some have done very well in going out in person to parley. "that I shall never thin any man greater than myself whilst I have my sword in my hand. but he himself was constrained. as the safest way. Lucius Aemilius Regillus. to follow the count. as I have just said. as it should thereby be judged that it was rather an effect of my despair and want of courage than voluntarily and out of confidence and security in the faith of him with whom I had to do. they were surprised and cut to pieces: a thing that. he conceived himself singularly obliged to his enemy.

and Bertheville. without any manner of hostility. But. the city of Casilinum was ta en by surprise. and the articles betwixt them being so far advanced that it was loo ed upon as a done thing. to restrain his people: so that. where Du e Octaviano Fregosa commanded under our protection. he fell upon them when they were all buried in sleep. Fu il vincer sempre mai laudabil cosa. brought his whole army in with him. and while the citizens were relying upon their safety warrant. it was no more in his power." And so having concluded a truce with those of Argos for seven days. "that what mischief soever a man could do his enemy in time of war was above justice. by reason of the singular valour wherewith the inhabitants defended themselves. and upon the point to be concluded. Vincasi o per fortuna. to receive them as friends to the people of Rome. that we might not escape scot-free the Marquess of Pescara having laid siege to Genoa. going out to parley. an author of very great authority. in time and place. and to enter the town. iii. But the philosopher Chrysippus was of another opinion. and his soldiers in the meantime being a little more remiss in their guard. * say they. o per ingegno. at his return found his place ta en. and that even in the age of the justest captains and the most perfect Roman military discipline. the town was ta en. the Spaniards in the meantime having slipped in. in those affairs. but having. to ma e advantage of our enemies' want of understanding. doubtless. made use of this treachery as an absolute victory. for it is not said that it is not lawful for us. at Ligny. of which he gave them all assurance. In a time of parley also. alleging that there had no nights been mentioned in the truce. as into a confederate city.. De Offic. war has naturally many privileges that appear reasonable even to the prejudice of reason. And since. he there saw a considerable part of the city sac ed and ruined before his face. the said count's lieutenant. but the gods punished this subtle perfidy. having from a bastion begun to parley. And. in Barrois. for the greater pomp. conditioned.Cicero.. governor of the town. Signor Fabricio Colonna. and nothing accountable to it in the sight of gods and men. the emperor having in his own person beleaguered that place. whilst he was capitulating. at last.attempting to ta e the city of Phocaea by force. avarice and revenge trampling under foot both his authority and all military discipline. where the Count de Brienne commanded.                 . at Yvoy. * But I am astonished at the great liberty allowed by Xenophon in such cases. and put them all to the sword. And of later memory. the third night after. with all the endeavour he could use. and put them to the sword. and that both by precept and by the example of several exploits of his complete emperor. Signor Juliano Romero having played that part of a novice to go out to parley with the constable. as well as their want of courage. {BK1_6 ^paragraph 5} * No one should prey upon another's folly. our people entered the place at unawares. Neminem id agere ut ex alterius praedetur inscitia. I confess. as being in his own person both a great captain and a philosopher of the first form of Socrates' disciples: and yet I cannot consent to such a measure of licence as he dispenses in all things and places. and playing a furious battery against it. Monsieur d'Aubigny. And therefore here the rule fails. Cleomenes was wont to say. besieging Capua.

was no more to be excused for deferring the execution of his infidelity till after his death than Herodotus's mason. articled with Don Philip." said he. but in valiant arms. into his hands. and encountered man to man: superior. by necessity.Aeneid. that Henry should attempt nothing against the life of the said du e. which Philip accordingly did. {BK1_7 VII. there were very remar able passages. lately. death did not acquit the former of his promise. to the end that death might disengage him from the obligation he had passed to the other." *(2) * Victory is ever worthy of praise. haud furto melior. in which. but upon condition. or with the darted spear to give him a wound unseen. and to run as fast as they can. he confronted him. the ing in his last will commanded his son to put him to death immediately after his decease. conceiving his soul and will indebted to his promise. indeed.. And yet more generous was the answer of that great Alexander to Polypercon. And. who having inviolably. and one amongst the rest." I now some who have ta en it in another sense. although he had not the power to ma e it good. adversoque occurrit. *                                 . ept the secret of the treasure of the King of Egypt. who was fled into the Low Countries.Quintus Curtius. nevertheless. we are masters of nothing but the will. all the rules and whole duty of man ind are founded and established: therefore Count Egmont. or (to place him more honourably) father to the Emperor Charles V. by reason that effect and performance are not at all in our power. and that the second was discharged from it without dying. iv. whether obtained by valour or by wisdom. xv. his master. Henry VII. methin s. and that. "it is not for such a man as I am to steal a victory. * * He deigned not to cut off Orodes as he fled. seque viro vir Contulit. during the time of his life. in the tragedy that the Du e of Alva presented to us in the persons of the Counts Horn and Egmont at Brussels. that the said Philip should deliver up the Du e of Suffol of the White Rose. son to Maximilian the Emperor. for he was used to say that those who run a race ought to employ all the force they have in what they are about. his enemy. face to face. even though he had outlived the other. "By no means. not in stratagem.. nor to set a leg before him to throw him down. Malo me fortunae poeniteat.wherein I also concur. but coming to die. sed fortibus armis. that Count Egmont (upon the security of whose word and faith Count Horn had come and surrendered himself to the Du e of Alva) earnestly entreated that he might first mount the scaffold.Ariosto. THAT THE INTENTION IS JUDGE OF OUR ACTIONS 'TIS a saying. In which case. but overta ing him. x. at his death discovered it to his children. had doubtless been absolved of his duty. nec jacta caecum dare cuspide vulnus: Obvius.. "That death discharges us of all our obligations. {BK1_6 ^paragraph 10} *(2) I had rather complain of ill-fortune than be ashamed of victory. King of England. Atque idem fugientem haud est dignatus Oroden Sternere. who was persuading him to ta e the advantage of the night's obscurity to fall upon Darius. We cannot be bound beyond what we are able to perform. but that it is by no means fair in them to lay any hand upon their adversary to stop him. but the King of England wilfully and premeditately brea ing his faith. quam victoriae pudeat.

Horace. do sometimes of themselves bring forth inanimate and formless lumps of flesh. ii. {BK1_8 ^paragraph 5} *(2) As sic men's dreams. but they had as good do nothing. *(2) * As when on brazen vats of water the trembling beams of light. {BK1_8 VIII. run into a thousand extravagances. Unjust judges. creating vain phantasms. eternally roving here and there in the vague expanse of the imaginationSicut aquae tremulum labris ubi lumen ahenis. not having the power. over and above. The soul that has no established aim loses itself. have endeavoured to ma e amends by their will. and now are darted up on high. and by how much their payment is more strict and incommodious to themselves. I shall ta e care.Aeneid. and that to ma e them perform their true office. Penitency requires penalty. convicted by their consciences of unjustly detaining the goods of another. without nowledge of man. to ma e their malice die with them. who reserve the declaration of a mortal animosity against their neighbour to the last gasp. aut radiantis imagine lunae. but extending the life of their hatred even beyond their own. and less to their conscience. if I can. who defer judgment to a time wherein they can have no nowledge of the cause! For my part. jamque sub auras Erigitur. and as we see women that. but they yet do worse than these. by so much is their restitution more just and meritorious. reflected from the sun. OF IDLENESS AS WE see some grounds that have long lain idle and untilled. as it is said. even out of respect to death itself. Velut aegri somnia. De Art. irritating the party offended in their memory. who. viii. I have ta en notice of several in my time. or from the image of the radiant moon. summique ferit laquearia tecti * -in which wild agitation there is no folly. and after their decease. having concealed it during their life. nor idle fancy they do not light upon. that my death discover nothing that my life has not first and openly declared. for. swiftly float over every place around. something of their own. Sole repercussum. and stri e the ceilings of the lofty roof:..* Herodotus. we are to cultivate and prepare them for such seeds as are proper for our service. as either in ta ing so much time in so pressing an affair.                       . Poet. vanae Finguntur species. wherein they manifest little regard of their own honour. Omnia pervolitat late loca. to abound with and spend their virtue in the product of innumerable sorts of weeds and wild herbs that are unprofitable. but that to cause a natural and perfect generation they are to be husbanded with another ind of seed. when grown rich and fertile by rest. or in going about to remedy a wrong with so little dissatisfaction or injury to themselves. which if not applied to some certain study that may fix and restrain them. They owe. even so it is with minds.

who voluntarily runs into a much more violent career than any horseman would put him to. hoping in time to ma e it ashamed of itself. they do not believe me. the defect being intolerable in those who ta e upon them public affairs. Maxime. he has forgot to say or do. but to neglect anything my friend has given me in charge. I have begun to commit them to writing. as much as possibly I could.. and reprove me. which is to ma e matters still worse for me.Martial. certes.. they bring my affections into question upon the account of my memory. for experience. lives nowhere. or that promise. they say. for I have scarcely any at all. "this request. with a resolution. vii. such a one has no memory. for my sa e. when they would say a man has no sense. My other faculties are all sufficiently ordinary and mean. as several li e examples in the progress of nature                           . represent me for an ungrateful person. When I lately retired to my own house. However. ma e out a defect of conscience. quite contrary. OF LIARS THERE is not a man living whom it would so little become to spea from memory as myself. that a strong memory is commonly coupled with infirm judgment. and to spend in privacy and repose the little remainder of time I have to live. one upon another.Quisquis ubique habitat." says one. it is li e a horse that has bro e from his rider. methin s. iv. and from a natural imperfection. moreover (who am so perfect in nothing as in friendship). without branding me with malice.Lucan. which I now hoped it might henceforth do. nusquam habitat. I never do it. without order or design. I am apt enough to forget many things. that. I derive these comforts from my infirmity: first. or conceal such and such a thing. but in this I thin myself very rare and singular. ambition. Besides the natural inconvenience I suffer by it (for. he no more remembers his friends. but I find{BK1_8 ^paragraph 10} Variam semper dant otia mentem. the better at leisure to contemplate their strangeness and absurdity. that would easily enough have grown upon me. And it should be enough. the necessary use of memory considered. truly. That. * Leisure ever creates varied thought. as being by time become more settled and mature. * * He who lives everywhere. and deserving to be thought famous. to avoid all manner of concern in affairs. namely. "He has forgot. that they ma e the same words which accuse my infirmity. as though I accused myself for a fool: not discerning the difference betwixt memory and understanding. on the contrary. Plato had reason when he called it a great and powerful goddess). * -that. rather. that it is an evil from which principally I have found reason to correct a worse. I fancied I could not more oblige my mind than to suffer it at full leisure to entertain and divert itself." And. and when I complain of the defect of mine. {BK1_9 IX. in my country. that I feel the misery and inconvenience of it. But they do me wrong. a great wrong in this. and creates me so many chimaeras and fantastic monsters. They do me. and do not thin that the world has another so marvellously treacherous as mine. a vice so contrary to my humour. daily shows us.

to escape being trapped. by reason that the real truth of the thing. that though the story be good in itself. Had mine been faithful to me. which were a pity: as I have observed in several of my intimate friends. according to their own fancy. 'tis very hard for them. as the ancient said. and the circumstances of the first true nowledge evermore running in their minds. I had ere this deafened all my friends with my babble. as their memories supply them with an entire and full view of things. it will be difficult that it should not represent itself to the imagination. insomuch that. having first ta en possession of the memory. I the less remember the injuries I have received. and forget how often they have told them. and shoulder out falsehood. and only forged by their own fancy.demonstrate to us. these do either wholly contrive and invent the untruths they utter. Secondly. will be apt to ma e them forget those that are illegitimate. still smile upon me with a fresh novelty." I now very well that the grammarians distinguish betwixt an untruth and a lie. and say that to tell an untruth is to tell a thing that is false. In what they wholly                                     . otherwise very pleasant in themselves. and to cut it short. so oft as he sat down to dinner. the subjects themselves arousing and stirring up the little faculty I have of handling and employing them. or a prompter. and that the definition of the word to lie in Latin. remember the Athenians". and I have nown stories from the mouth of a man of very great quality. I should otherwise have been apt implicitly to have reposed my mind and judgment upon the bare report of other men. but cannot stop short in their career. who would. ordered one of his pages three times to repeat in his ear. who. I see even those who are pertinent enough. for whilst they are see ing out a handsome period to conclude with. without ever setting them to wor upon their own force. by this means. from which our French is ta en. that. and it is of this last sort of liars only that I now spea . at one time or another. heating and extending my discourse. above all. but that we ourselves believe to be true. and the boo s I read over again. that he might not forget the offence he had received from those of Athens. When they disguise and often alter the same story. they go on at random. and being there lodged and impressed by the medium of nowledge and science. Now. are dangerous company. v. she has fortified me in my other faculties proportionably as she has left me unfurnished in this. is to tell a thing which we now in our conscience to be untrue. old men who retain the memory of things past. who. I should have a register of injuries. But. It is not without good reason said "that he who has not a good memory should never ta e upon him the trade of lying. you are either to curse the strength of their memory or the wea ness of their judgment: and it is a hard thing to close up a discourse. they ma e a shift to spoil it. and if otherwise. straggling about upon impertinent trivialities as men staggering upon wea legs. had the inventions and opinions of others been ever present with me by the benefit of memory. or so alter and disguise a true story that it ends in a lie. "Sir. again. for the magazine of the memory is ever better furnished with matter than that of the invention. * Herodotus. become very wearisome by being repeated a hundred times over and over again to the same people. That by this means I am not so tal ative. there is nothing wherein the force of a horse is so much seen as in a round and sudden stop. and crowd it with so many impertinent circumstances. as Darius. * and then. which cannot there have so sure and settled footing as the other. the places which I revisit. begin their narrative so far bac . when you have once started.

there is only one to hit it. vii. and after a tongue has once got the nac of lying. no. giving it several colours. by this means. and torment them for wanton tric s. but one face only. so subject and enslaved to this vice. what becomes of this fine art? To which may be added. nonplussed Francisco Taverna.. we should be upon better terms. The Pythagoreans ma e good to be certain and finite. both in their infancy and in their progress. We are not men. King Francis I bragged that he had. An ancient father says "that a dog we now is better company than a man whose language we do not understand. and which is of something a lower form. Du e of Milan. and a field indefinite. I have an honest lad to my tailor. and find out the cheat. If falsehood had. for the circumstances to which these men stic not to enslave their faith and conscience being subject to several changes. Of which I have had very pleasant experience. but they do not see that if they have the reputation of it. forasmuch as there is no contrary impression to jostle their invention. ambassador of Francisco Sforza. Nat. If we did but discover the horror and gravity of it. not when it had been to his advantage. who are otherwise very honest men. lying is an accursed vice. obstinacy. if they once come to confer notes. and yet even this also. for what memory can be sufficient to retain so many different shapes as they have forged upon one and the same subject? I have nown many in my time very ambitious of the repute of this fine wit. lying only. and evil. if it be not well assured. are the faults which are to be severely whipped out of them. is very apt to escape the memory. {BK1_9 ^paragraph 5} In plain truth. and particularly with the duchy of Milan. or to the humour of the great fol s to whom they are spea ing. and with indiscretion enough. There are a thousand ways to miss the white. their language must vary accordingly: whence it happens that of the same thing they tell one man that it is this. * And how much less sociable is false spea ing than silence? * As a foreigner cannot be said to supply to us the place of a man. otherwise they grow up and increase with them. for we should then ta e for certain the contrary to what the liar says: but the reverse of truth has a hundred thousand forms.invent. out of which he had lately been driven. the effect can no longer be. nor have other tie upon one another. that they must of necessity very often ridiculously trap themselves. li e truth. had thought it convenient to have a gentleman on his behalf to be with that du e: an                                   . and another that it is that. without bound or limit. and more justly than other crimes. there seems to be less danger of tripping. I see that parents commonly. that have neither impression nor consequence. which men. whom I never new guilty of one truth. correct their children for little innocent faults. we should pursue it with fire and sword. I have this vice in so great horror. and without any hold. at the expense of such as profess only to form and accommodate their speech to the affair they have in hand.Pliny. by reason it is a vain body. Hist. This gentleman had been sent to excuse his master to his majesty about a thing of very great consequence. infinite and uncertain. 'tis not to be imagined how impossible it is to reclaim it: whence it comes to pass that we see some. in my opinion. which was this: the ing. For my own part. still to maintain some intelligence with Italy." Ut externus alieno non sit hominis vice. but by our word. that I am not sure I could prevail with my conscience to secure myself from the most manifest and extreme danger by an impudent and solemn lie. a man very famous for his science in tal ing in those days. whereas.

but very much to his own prejudice. as well as to the du e himself. for the du e. the more handsomely to disengage himself. out of respect to his majesty. {BK1_10 X. and had represented them to the Pope. very unseasonably. Messire Francisco being come. and others more heavy and slow. wherein some have such a facility and promptness. could not manifest any practice and conference with us. and never to be surprised. For this commission one Merveille. that such an execution should have been performed by day. that the du e would have been very loath. as we suppose. a Milanese gentleman. so far was he from ta ing him for an ambassador: the ing. pressing him with several objections and demands. and with other letters of recommendation to the du e about his own private concerns. or that his majesty so much as new him. and sifting him on all hands. the execution was performed by night. who was there only in order to his own business. after he had for the support of his cause laid open several plausible justifications of the fact. that they are ever ready upon all occasions. before he would give an answer. and the business he came about. to demand satisfaction). that his master never loo ed upon this Merveille for other than a private gentleman. absolutely disowning that he had ever heard he was one of the ing's household.ambassador in effect. and was so long in that court. and prepared with a long counterfeit history of the affair (for the ing had applied himself to all the princes of Christendom. * so we see in the gift of eloquence. made answer. was on the side of the French. the better to mas and colour the business. much more depending upon the emperor. and his own subject. that the emperor at last had some in ling of his real employment there. then. OF QUICK OR SLOW SPEECH Onc ne furent a touts toutes graces donnees. had his audience at the morning council. for having so grossly tripped in the presence of a prince of so delicate a nostril as King Francis. the ing first derived argument (which also he afterwards found to be true). Pope Julius II having sent an ambassador to the King of England to animate him against King Francis. the ambassador. replied that he had also himself considered the same difficulties. never venture to utter                                         . and that which we call a present wit so easy. Any one may guess if he was not well rated when he came home. insisting upon the difficulties he should find in setting on foot so great a preparation as would be necessary to attac so potent a ing. especially at a time when he was in a treaty of a marriage with his niece. being thought very fit. daughter to the King of Denmar . was accordingly despatched thither with private credentials. and the ing. From which saying of his. and his head in the night struc off in prison. in his own mind. so directly opposite to the thing propounded. which was the occasion of what followed after. and instructions as ambassador. of which having advertised the Pope. his estate at his return home was confiscated. and as it were by stealth? At which the poor confounded ambassador. his trial was in two days despatched. which was. the ambassador having had his audience. and he himself very narrowly escaped the losing of his head. that this ambassador. and now dowager of Lorraine. and an equerry to the ing. in his turn. which was immediately to incite him to war. but in outward appearance a private person who pretended to reside there upon his own particular affairs. gravelled him at last by as ing. that under pretence of some murder. why. where. neither had he ever lived after any other aspect. and urging some reasons to that effect.

in my opinion. that he stood more obliged to fortune than to his own diligence. lest his anger should redouble his eloquence. at the interview betwixt Pope Clement and King Francis at Marseilles. which finding himself unable to do. are equally unhappy. and that of judgment. a man bred up all his life at the bar. the slow spea er. and ta en great care and pains to fit and prepare. and besides. methin s. sent to acquaint the ing with the argument which he conceived most suiting to the time and place. and in the highest repute for eloquence. as. should be more proper for the pulpit. brea s and hinders itself li e water. Cardinal du Bellay was constrained to perform that office. 'Tis said of Severus Cassius that he spo e best extempore. whereas the pleader's business and interest compels him to enter the lists upon all occasions. and a certain striving and contending of a mind too far strained and overbent upon its underta ing. Now. and                                       . But besides this. sudden. that if it do not go fran ly and gaily to wor . and that his adversaries were afraid to nettle him. experimentally. It should seem that the nature of wit is to have its operation prompt and sudden.anything but what they have long premeditated. to have it more deliberate and more slow. * All graces were never yet given to any one man. that it would not be disordered and stimulated with such passions as the fury of Cassius (for such a motion would be too violent and rude). I now. to which the lawyers and preachers of our age seem principally to pretend. the Pope.A verse in one of La Boetie's Sonnets. it can perform nothing to purpose. yet. the solicitude of doing well. Yet. and having so long meditated on it beforehand.. that Monsieur Poyet. it would be roused and heated by unexpected. that it was an advantage to him to be interrupted in spea ing. so they said. cannot find a ready issue through the nec of a bottle or a narrow sluice. for want of leisure to prepare himself to spea well. but. the very day it was to have been pronounced. much harder than that of the preacher. having the charge of ma ing the harangue to the Pope committed to him. and put him. it happened. so it should be in these two advantages of eloquence. it would not be jostled. The pleader's part is. to have brought it ready made along with him from Paris. quite contrary. But he who remains totally silent. we see more passable lawyers than preachers. In this condition of nature. and the other for the bar: and that because the employment of the first does naturally allow him all the leisure he can desire to prepare himself. there is this also. fearing something might be said that might give offence to the other prince's ambassadors who were there attending on him. and. We say of some compositions that they stin of oil and of the lamp. If I were worthy to advise. quite another thing to that Monsieur de Poyet had ta en so much pains about: so that the fine speech he had prepared was of no use. upon the instant. the disposition of nature so impatient of a tedious and elaborate premeditation. as we teach young ladies those sports and exercises which are most proper to set out the grace and beauty of those parts wherein their chiefest ornament and perfection lie. at all events in France. and the unexpected objections and replies of his adverse party jostle him out of his course. and he also whom leisure does noways benefit to better spea ing. without stop or interruption. doubtless. by chance. his career is performed in an even and unintermitted line. to pump for new and extempore answers and defences. that by force of its own pressing violence and abundance. but solicited. of which I am now spea ing. and he was upon the instant to contrive another. by reason of a certain rough harshness that laborious handling imprints upon those where it has been employed.

multa vaticinationibus. multa Augures provident. only. that seems quaint and sprightly to me. gives it grace and vigour.Aves quasdam. But when I come to spea . that I do not find myself where I see myself. Sit subitum.*(3) and others of the li e nature.Multa cernunt Aruspices. Noscant venturas ut dira per omina clades?. *(4) * What is the reason that the oracles at Delphos are no longer uttered: not merely in this age of ours. occasion. from spirits. our religion has totally abolished them. at some other time. and portents. *(3) The Aruspices discern many things. If I should ma e erasure so often as this inconvenience befalls me. and even the very rising and falling of my own voice.. befalls me. sed jam diu. By which means.accidental occasions. multa portentis.. rerum augurandarum causa natas esse putamus. the overflowing of rivers. attribute the natural constitution of the intestines of the beasts themselves). but for a long time past nothing is more in contempt?. I perhaps sometimes hit upon something when I write. I am already so lost that I now not what I was about to say. though it will appear dull and heavy to another. in part. ii. agitation. liceat sperare timenti. rector Olympi. ii. calculated from the anatomy of beasts at sacrifices (to which purpose Plato does. company. and in such cases a stranger often finds it out before me. as if we had not enough to do to digest the present)Cur hanc tibi.. many things are announced by oracles. dreams. ut nihil possit esse contemptius? * But as to the other prognostics. De Divin. De Nat. and ma e me wonder what I should stic at..*(2) claps of thunder. sit caeca futuri Mens hominum fati. they had begun to lose their credit. quodcumque paras.Idem. ii. And although there yet remain amongst us some practices of divination from the stars. it is certain that a good while before the coming of Jesus Christ.Ibid. I should ma e clean wor . from the shapes and complexions of men. Deor.. multa somniis.. upon which antiquity founded most of their public and private enterprises. and when wholly at my own disposition: accident has more title to anything that comes from me than I. This. If it be left to itself. the scraping of poultry. extract more from my fancy than I can find when I sound and employ it by myself. for we see that Cicero is troubled to find out the cause of their decay. non modo nostra aetate. where neither is worth anything.But let us leave these fine compliments: every one tal s thus of himself according to his talent. {BK1_11 XI. if either were to be preferred. I am always worst in my own possession. Sollicitis visum mortalibus addere curam. and I light upon things more by chance than by any inquisition of my own judgment. also. the things I say are better than those I write. occasion will. from dreams and the li e (a notable example of the wild curiosity of our nature to grasp at and anticipate future things. vaticinations. multa oraculis declarantur.. *(2) We thin some sorts of birds are purposely created to serve the purposes of augury. and he has these words: Cur isto modo jam Oracula Delphis non eduntur.. {BK1_11 ^paragraph 5}                         . lay it as visible to me as the light. the flight of birds. the Augurs foresee many things. OF PROGNOSTICATIONS FOR what concerns oracles.Cicero. it flags and languishes...

infinitely favoured and esteemed in our court. it had been in his power to have done more than he did.. who being lieutenant to King Francis I in his army beyond the mountains. iii. having no manner of provocation given him to do it. ii. Od. Vel sole puro.Lucan..Ibid. Deor. De Nat.. so certain they made themselves of our ruin).. it is a miserable thing to be tormented to no purpose. si mortalis ultra Fas trepidat. and we not at all suspecting his design. no matter whether to-morrow the great Father shall give us a clouded s y or a clear day. nevertheless.. Ridetque. who can say. ruler of Olympus. *(2) He lives happy and master of himself.. to his own misfortune. where these foolish prophecies were so far believed. cui licet in diem Dixisse. But he carried himself in this affair li e a man agitated with divers passions. and to our disadvantage (especially in Italy.. Marquis of Saluzzo. iii. so much more remar able.Cicero. for we lost no men by this infidelity of his. the enemy's army under Antonio de Leyva close by him. Let human minds be blind to future things. Which ma es the example of Francis. vixi! eras vel atra Nube polum pater occupato. what constellation soever governed at that time. ii. amidst our fears. careworn mortals added this care.. quod ultra est. Send. *(3) A mind happy. he revolted and turned to the other side.Horace.. for having both towns and forces in his hands. and even his own affection opposing any such disloyalty. that at Rome great sums of money were ventured out upon return of greater when the prognostics came to pass. Prudens futuri temporis exitum Caliginosa nocte premit Deus. Oderit curare. and the friends he had in that court. nor any town. which had been forfeited by his brother. Let hope. the ills thou hast in store for them. iii. and as to the rest. * It is useless to now what shall come to pass. unloo ed for. suffered himself to be so terrified. that they should now by omens future slaughter?. hast thou to anxious. * Ille potens sui Laetusque deget.. *(3) * A wise God covers with thic night the path of the future. nihil proficientem angi). -                       . with the fine prognostics that were spread abroad everywhere in favour of the Emperor Charles V. have some place. *(2) {BK1_11 ^paragraph 10} Laetus in praesens animus.Ibid. will ta e good care not to thin of what is beyond it. (Ne utile quidem est scire quid futurum sit: miserum est enim. as each day passes on. "I have lived". but Fossano only. and obliged to the ing's bounty for the marquisate itself. the mischiefs that he saw would inevitably fall upon the crown of France. and laughs at the man who alarms himself without reason. cheerful in the present state. as it was confidently reported.. that having often bewailed to those of his acquaintance who were most intimate with him. and that after a long siege and a brave defence.*(4) Why.* yet are they of much less authority now than heretofore.

with an infantine aspect. peradventure. i.And those who ta e this sentence in a contrary sense interpret it amiss: Ista sic reciprocantur. quam auscultandum. for that matter. should. showing him in the temple the several offerings and stories in painting of those who had escaped shipwrec . The so celebrated art of divination amongst the Tuscans too its beginning thus: A labourer stri ing deep with his culter into the earth. yet so. what do you say to so many persons preserved from death by their especial favour?" "Why. from Pacuvius. -                   . Besides. attributing so great importance to this accidental choice as to ordain that the children begotten in such wedloc be brought up in the country. indeed. And. Upon the rumour of which. *(2) As to those who understand the language of birds. quam ex suo. qui linguam avium intelligunt. that carries a mighty report. and will. and those begotten in any other be thrust out as spurious and base. Plato. ut et si divinatio sit.Cicero. There would be more certainty in it if there were a rule and a truth of always lying. et si dii sint. he might be recalled. I say. should be exiled. A birth. Plusque ex alieno jecore sapiunt. surnamed the Atheist." answered he. who. for my part. all the people ran to see the sight. nobody records their flimflams and false prognostics. I had rather hear them than attend to them.. notwithstanding. answered him in Samothrace. in case they gave little expectation of themselves in their early growth. also. who are by much the greater number. and if deities.Cicero. suitable to its progress! I.. Magis audiendum.. dii sint. amongst other things. De Divin. it is hardly possible but that these alleged authorities sometimes stumble upon a truth amongst an infinite number of lies. said to him. divination. you who thin the gods have no care of human things. qui totum diem jaculans non aliquando collineet? * I thin never the better of them for some such accidental hit. and who rather consult the livers of animals than their own.. censeo." {BK1_11 ^paragraph 20} * For who shoots all day at butts that does not sometimes hit the white?. sit divinatio. were recorded. and produce them for authority when anything has fallen out pat. incredible. that such as had been retained. in the civil regimen that he models according to his own fancy. that if any of those exiles. a good share of the government has ever been referred to chance. De Divin. So Diogenes. saw the demigod Tages ascend. but endued with a mature and senile wisdom. but if they chop upon one truth. by whom his words and science. "Loo . leaves to it the decision of several things of very great importance. ii. should sooner regulate my affairs by the chance of a die than by such idle and vain dreams. that marriages should be appointed by lot. there must be deities. in all republics.Ibid. *(2) * These things have that reciprocate. I see some who are mightily given to study and comment upon their almanacs. and prodigious. forasmuch as they are infinite and common. as being rare. in growing up give any good hope of himself. "that their pictures are not here who were cast away. and ept for many ages. and. Quis est enim. containing the principles and means to attain to this art.. that if there be divination. as. * Much more wisely Pacuvius{BK1_11 ^paragraph 15} Nam istis.

that we need condemn. And whereas Laches. and so much to my own advantage. and Socrates. Several very warli e nations have made use of a retreating and flying way of fight as a thing of singular advantage. men astonished at their fortune. of a prompt. but. that in public confusions. which foretold all the future Popes. perhaps. are not only permitted. admits the                           . which ma es it the less a wonder if we have now and then seen some of our princes. rely too much upon these fopperies. that they might have been judged to have had something in them of a divine inspiration. have abandoned their own reason. all decent and honest ways and means of securing ourselves from harms. by so doing. and who also myself have had some. but shroud all in riddle. by which I have suffered myself to be carried away so fortunately. and fortuitous opinion. consequently. superstitiously to see out in the stars the ancient causes and menaces of their present mishaps. in Plato. and in my time have been so strangely successful in it. which prophesied all the emperors and patriarchs of Greece. I had given anything with my own eyes to see those two great marvels. those inclinations of his. Of which ind of fighting the Tur s still retain something in their practice of arms. So that there is no supple motion of body. vehement. is the obscure. This I have been an eye-witness of. to the end that posterity may interpret and apply it according to its own fancy. are capable. the boo of Joachim the Calabrian abbot. as much as in us lies. have made their bac s more dangerous to their enemies than their faces. were very important and worthy to be followed. in any sort of writing. but violent in persuasion and dissuasion. that we shall not fear lest they should surprise us: on the contrary. how irregular or ungraceful soever. Every one finds in himself some image of such agitations. {BK1_12 XII. nor any movement in the handling of arms. Socrates' demon might. which obtruded itself upon him without the advice or consent of his judgment. Xenophanes the Colophonian only has endeavoured to eradicate all manner of divination. and the business of constancy chiefly is. be a reputed cowardice to overcome them by giving ground?" urging. who attribute so little to our prudence. "would it. those who have been versed in this nac of unfolding and untying riddles. their names and forms. nor. the authority of Homer. to decline and secure ourselves from the mischiefs and inconveniences that threaten us. and fantastic gibberish of their prophetic canting. But above all. and I may well allow them some authority. to find out what they desire. then. that which gives them the greatest room to play in. and that of the Emperor Leo. wea in reason. ambiguous. and stoutly to suffer those inconveniences which are not possibly to be avoided.Cicero observes that of all the philosophers who have ac nowledged a deity. 'tis to be supposed. OF CONSTANCY THE law of resolution and constancy does not imply that we ought not. bravely to stand to. commendable. be no other but a certain impulsion of the will. and in a soul so enlightened as his was. who had defined fortitude to be a standing firm in the ran s against the enemy. if they serve to protect us from the blow that is made against us. "What!" says he. considering better o' it. though sudden and undigested. as to ma e me believe that this being an amusement of sharp and volatile wits. sometimes to their own cost. who commends in Aeneas the science of flight. laughs at Laches. which were most frequent with Socrates. and. where their authors deliver nothing of clear sense. at the same time. moreover. and so prepared by a continual exercise of wisdom and virtue.

who had neither tilled fields. and in a place where I am not to expect it. and father to the queen-mother. they might brea and disunite that vast body of men in the pursuit. in general.                             . not being able to brea into the Persian phalanx. Nevertheless. some years before. that he did so. as the occasion of war often requires. and levelled it so exactly right against him. slipped aside. the Marquis de Guast going to reconnoitre the city of Arles. and that the seat of his reason suffer no concussion nor alteration. as to cannon-shot. Du e of Urbino. that he always retired before him. had doubtless hit him full in the breast. in the battle of Plataea. And. that when Darius sent his expedition to subdue them. or of any man living. highly to reproach their ing. braver fellows than I. it was well for him that he duc ed. and by that stratagem obtained the victory. for otherwise the shot. has been. but. was perceived by the Seigneurs de Bonneval and the Seneschal of Agenois. to which Idanthyrses. and there he should have his fill. as to a natural subjection. which I have also observed in others. Lorenzo de Medici. stepping aside. he pointed a culverin so admirably well.practice as to the Scythians. iv. and so in other passions. and be affrighted even to paleness and convulsion. all cavalry whatever. consent that he should tremble at the terrible noise of thunder. {BK1_12 ^paragraph 5} Neither do the Stoics pretend that the soul of their philosopher need be proof against the first visions and fantasies that surprise him. For my own part. and declined a battle. as to see to avoid it. bethought themselves to disperse and retire. * Herodotus. let him but come to view their ancient places of sepulture. under favour of which he had made his approach. seeing the cannoneer give fire to a piece that pointed directly against him. he sent. returned answer. sufficiently laughed at by his companions. or to fear the enemy should ma e any advantage of: but that if he had such a stomach to fight. seeing fire given to it. it is unhandsome to quit their post to avoid the danger. I do not thin that these evasions are performed upon the account of judgment. when a body of men are drawn up in the face of a train of artillery. commissary of the artillery. that only razed the top of his head. at all events. * for that was his name. cities. it was certainly concluded the shot had ta en him full in the body. And yet. and such other motions of fear. and. 'tis said of them. and advancing out of the cover of a windmill. provided his judgment remain sound and entire. who were wal ing upon the Theatre aux Arenes. that had not the marquis. in li e manner. for how can any man living judge of high or low aim on so sudden an occasion? And it is much more easy to believe that fortune favoured their apprehension. in the expedition that the Emperor Charles V made against us into Provence. a place in the territories of the vicariat in Italy. but that it was the way of marching in practice with his nation. nor houses to defend. I confess I cannot forbear starting when the rattle of a arquebuse thunders in my ears on a sudden. or the sudden clatter of some falling ruin. by duc ing. he again attac s him with the example of the Lacedaemonian foot. forasmuch as by reason of its violence and swiftness we account it inevitable. who having shown him to the Sieur de Villiers. and that it might be as well at another time to ma e them face the danger. that by the enemy supposing they fled. laying siege to Mondolpho. As for the Scythians. by a herald. and many a one. To say truth. that it was not for fear of him.a nation of all others the most obstinate in maintaining their groundwho.

after he had ta en order for the necessary preparations for his reception and entertainment. it would be a notable affront to an equal. Not every country only. the greater ought to be first at the appointed place.Aeneid. if only upon the account of missing him by the way. of which there are some so troublesome that. If. to meet any that is coming to see him. I have seen some people rude. intimating thereby a ind of deference to the other. if we bring the same trouble home to our own private houses? It is also a common rule in all assemblies. it is much better to offend him once than myself every day. * * Though tears flow. and gave the Pope two or three days respite for his entry. for the impression of passions does not remain superficially in him. but he moderates them. that those of less quality are to be first upon the place. as we so often do. for which the reason given was this. that at all the interviews of such princes. but quite another thing in the second. some one may ta e offence at this. For my part. and conforms his behaviour to it. lachrymae volvuntur inanes. when he has given you notice he will come to visit you. There was care enough to this ta en in my education. withdrew out of the town. Nay. at the assignation of the Pope and the emperor at Bologna. and every society. the mind remains unmoved. {BK1_13 XIII. and that it is more respectful and more civil to stay at home to receive him. but every city. and to repose and refresh himself. And in li e manner. peradventure. who as much as I can endeavour to reduce the ceremonies of my house. Queen Margaret of Navarre further adds.. but penetrates farther. provided a man omits them out of discretion. so that he judges according to his fear. infecting and corrupting it. I love to follow them. for it would be a perpetual slavery. it appearing proper for the less to see out and to apply themselves to the greater. The Peripatetic sage does not exempt himself totally from perturbations of mind. but not to be so servilely tied to their observation that my whole life should be enslaved to ceremonies. that it would be a rudeness in a gentleman to go out. To him who is not a philosopher. the ing. and am able to give lessons in it. In this verse you may see the true state of the wise Stoic learnedly and plainly expressed: Mens immota manet. has its particular forms of civility. According to our common rule of civility. before he came to him. THE CEREMONY OF THE INTERVIEW OF PRINCES THERE is no subject so frivolous that does not merit a place in this rhapsody. and to wait upon him. the emperor gave the Pope opportunity to come thither first. to fail of being at home. I very often forget both the one and the other of these vain offices. and not for want of breeding. and I have lived in good company enough to now the formalities of our own nation. at the interview betwixt Pope Clement and King Francis at Marseilles. even to the very seat of reason.and that he yield no consent to his fright and discomposure. a fright is the same thing in the first part of it. and came himself after. iv. by reason that it is more due to the better sort to ma e others wait and expect them. by being over-civil and                   . especially before the other in whose territories the interview is appointed to be. To what end do we avoid the servile attendance of courts. Nevertheless. I can't help it. let him be of what high condition soever. it will be every whit as handsome. and not the greater to them. and that it is enough to receive him at the door. and much more to a superior.

Monsieur de Montmorency. From this consideration it is that we have derived the custom. It is. and to ta e up his quarters in the Faubourg St. if we have any worth ta ing notice of and communicating. unless a man be very perfect in its limits. as is plain. consequently. which upon the confines are very hard to discern. they found some states where it was a universal and inviolable law amongst them that every enemy overcome by the ing in person. and in the very beginning of acquaintance. THAT MEN ARE JUSTLY PUNISHED FOR BEING OBSTINATE IN THE DEFENCE OF A FORT THAT IS NOT IN REASON TO BE DEFENDED VALOUR has its bounds as well as other virtues. and folly. And in that part of the world where the Portuguese subdued the Indians. there is danger that the balance be pressed to much in that direction. that which first opens the door and intromits us to instruct ourselves by the example of others. then governor of Turin. But forasmuch as the strength or wea ness of a fortress is always measured by the estimate and counterpoise of the forces that attac it. these excesses excepted.where also the greatness of the prince who is master of the field. and ta ing the Castle of Villano by assault. his reputation. that which begets li ing and an inclination to love one another at the first sight. he caused them both to be trussed up for the same reason. that thin ing it unreasonable any place should dare to shut its gates against him. the next step is into the territories of vice. obstinacy. So that above all things a man should ta e heed. was out of composition. all his people having been cut in pieces at the ta ing of the place. the nowledge of courtesy and good manners is a very necessary study. and to give examples ourselves. savouring so much of barbarian pride and insolence. or by his lieutenant. Still. in the same country. which was so obstinate as to endure a battery. li e grace and beauty. And it may happen that a man is possessed with so great an opinion of himself and his power. he may very easily unawares run into temerity. that would be a madman to abide a battery of thirty pieces of cannon. whilst his fortune continues. so that by having too large a proportion of this heroic virtue. in the fierce and arrogant forms of summoning towns and denouncing war. hanged every man he found within it for their labour. to punish. both of ransom and mercy. Bony. {BK1_14 XIV. {BK1_15 XV. if he can. which. The Constable. Antonio. once transgressed. And again. having at the siege of Pavia been ordered to pass the Ticino. even with death.troublesome in their courtesy. that not a henroost but would resist and see to stop an army. and. OF THE PUNISHMENT OF COWARDICE -                           . and which their successors to this day do yet retain and practise. of falling into the hands of a judge who is an enemy and victorious. being hindered by a tower at the end of the bridge. and the respect that is due unto him. otherwise men would be so confident upon the hope of impunity. with the governor of St.for a man might reasonably enough despise two culverins. in times of war. those who are obstinate to defend a place that by the rules of war is not tenable. are also put into the balance. he puts all to the sword where he meets with any opposition. accompanying the Dauphin in his expedition beyond the Alps. in use amongst the Oriental princes. and all within it being put to the sword by the fury of the soldiers. the governor and his ensign only excepted. as also did Captain Martin du Bellay.

all the gentlemen who were in Guise when the Count of Nassau entered into it. hoping yet for some service from them. the laws of Greece punished those with death who fled from a battle. But as to cowardice. openly maintaining that a soldier could not justly be put to death for want of courage. in the place of Monsieur de Lude. as several others have done since for the li e offence. which severe sentence was afterwards accordingly executed at Lyons. and that. to the ancient laws. 'tis but reason to ta e it for a sufficient proof of treachery and malice. And. to be first degraded. for our justification. but enemies. and it is partly upon this rule that those ground their opinion who disapprove of capital and sanguinary punishments inflicted upon heretics and misbelievers. dressed in woman's attire. in case of such a manifest ignorance or cowardice as exceeds all ordinary example. * Rather bring the blood into a man's chee than let it out of his body. elsewhere. and afterwards put to death. says he. Insomuch that many have thought we are not fairly questionable for anything but what we commit against our conscience. and for such to be punished. for the li e offence. Of late memory. it is certain that the most usual way of chastising it is by ignominy and disgrace. and theirs also who hold that an advocate or a judge is not accountable for having from mere ignorance failed in his administration. And yet. in the former. and a great captain. Notwithstanding. underwent the same punishment. ever to learn something from the information of those with whom I confer (which is the best school                     . and having surrendered it to the Spaniard. having awa ened their courage by this open shame: Suffundere malis hominis sanguinem. according. since that. in truth. for Ammianus Marcellinus says that the Emperor Julian commanded ten of his soldiers. and for ever incapable of bearing arms. having by the Marshal de Chabannes been put in government of Fuentarabia. and yet. And. he was for that condemned to be degraded from all nobility. and those who ran away with Cneius Fulvius at his defeat. and it is supposed that this practice was first brought into use by the legislator Charondas. Apologetics.. he only condemned others to remain amongst the prisoners. before his time. whereas. in the last. it seems as if we might produce the same nature. did not extend to death. quam effundere. who had turned their bac s in an encounter against the Parthians. * It appears also that the Roman laws did anciently punish those with death who had run away. 'tis reason that a man should ma e a great difference be twixt faults that merely proceed from infirmity. who was sentenced to death for having surrendered Boulogne to the English. and both himself and his posterity declared ignoble. and those that are visibly the effects of treachery and malice: for. and not only faint friends. taxable. we act against the rules of reason that nature has imprinted in us. whereas he ordained only that they should be for three days exposed in the public place. The severe punishment the people of Rome inflicted upon those who fled from the battle of Cannae. having a narration given him as he sat at table of the proceeding against Monsieur de Vervins. methin s. lest disgrace should ma e such delinquents desperate. A PROCEEDING OF SOME AMBASSADORS I OBSERVE in my travels this custom.I ONCE heard of a prince. lieutenant to the Marshal de Chattilion's company. the Seigneur de Franget. who left us in such a state of imperfection and wea ness of courage. under the baggage ensign.Tertullian. {BK1_16 XVI. 'tis to be feared.

if divines. and not necessary to be expected in him. in and from them. conti 'l pastor gli armenti. the establishment of laws and civil government. every mechanic artisan. and the manner how they are to be carried on. of the health and complexions of princes. the soldier of his wounds. ma e it his business always to put the architect. every one will rather choose to be prating of another man's province than his own. And this is the reason why (which perhaps I should have lightly                               . both of his own and all other faculties. the herd of his oxen. a quality something different. a thing that a hundred captains and common soldiers see every day without ta ing any notice or offence. the shepherd of his floc s. optat arare caballus. marriages. and the li e. ecclesiastical censures.of all others). For it often falls out that. thin ing it so much new reputation acquired. and how succinct and reserved in comparison. in reading histories. and to put my company upon those subjects they are the best able to spea of: Basti al nocchiero ragionar de' venti. His exploits sufficiently prove him a great captain.. principally. By this course a man shall never improve himself. the accounts of the actions and enterprises wherein they were personally engaged. but fell very rudely and magisterially to descant upon a barricade placed on the winding stair before the study door. and. The elder Dionysius was a very great captain. we are from them to ta e notice of the controversies of rights and wrongs." And do but observe how large and ample Caesar is to ma e us understand his inventions of building bridges and contriving engines of war. i. nor arrive at any perfection in anything. therefore. and dispensations. I use to consider what ind of men are the authors: if they be persons that profess nothing but mere letters. * * Let the sailor content himself with tal ing of the winds. the horse wants to plough. witness the jeer Archidamus put upon Periander.Horace. and yet he was never cut out for a poet. the painter. if courtiers. of wounds and diseases. Al bifolco dei tori. I the rather incline to credit what they report of the temperature of the air. the things that properly belong to their trade. the statuary. and that he new well enough. if ambassadors. which is everybody's subject. * {BK1_16 ^paragraph 5} * The lazy ox desires a saddle and bridle. He must. too no occasion at all to entertain himself with any of them. "that he had quitted the glory of being an excellent physician to gain the repute of a very bad poet. the affairs of the Church. I. ii. on the contrary. upon discourse of their own capacities.. And.An Italian translation of Propertius. Optat ephippia bos piger. we are to observe negotiations. if lawyers. Epist. intelligences. if physicians. and practices. principally observe and learn style and language. his own valour. to this purpose. if soldiers. et le sue piaghe Conti 'l guerrier. but he would be thought an excellent engineer to boot. as it befitted his fortune he should be. where he spea s of the offices of his profession. but he too very great pains to get a particular reputation by poetry. A gentleman of the long robe being not long since brought to see a study furnished with all sorts of boo s. manners and ceremonies. and military conduct.

and in the presence of the Bishop of Mascon and Monsieur du Velly. form and model their master's pleasure. and. The employment of ambassadors is never so confined. disposing. Crassus. at the time when he was consul in Asia. they do not simply execute. and to bring the less. as also. {BK1_16 ^paragraph 10} Notwithstanding. many things in their management of affairs being wholly referred to the absolute sovereignty of their own conduct. was really more proper for the use to which it was designed. every one does so naturally aspire to liberty and power. not only in authority. resolution. would not. for he afterwards. thought fit to do otherwise than directed. We so willingly slip the collar of command upon any pretence whatever. ta e them. To obey more upon the account of understanding than of subjection. and spo en in so great an assembly. twice or thrice in his life. but caused him to be well whipped for his pains. and are so ready to usurp upon dominion. though he gave ear to his reasons with great patience. to their own discretion and wisdom. and lest it should prompt him to some extravagant resolution. that no utility whatever derived from the wit or valour of those he employs ought to be so dear to a superior as a downright and sincere obedience. which. but Crassus.passed over in another) I dwelt upon and maturely considered one passage in the history written by Monsieur de Langey. to him who is in supreme command. a man of very great judgment in things of that nature: after having given a narrative of the fine oration Charles V had made in the Consistory at Rome. or a very little better opinion of our military men. nown men of command chec ed                                   . wherein he had mixed several injurious expressions to the dishonour of our nation. our ambassadors there. said the very same thing). concealed the greatest part. and concluding might have remained in him: for either to conceal or to disguise the truth for fear he should ta e it otherwise than he ought to do. coming from the mouth of such a person. and not to him who ought to loo upon himself as inferior. sending a despatch to the ing of these things. to be employed about some engine of battery he had a design to ma e. having sent to a Gree engineer to cause the greater of two masts of ships that he had ta en notice of at Athens to be brought to him. however. especially of so great importance as this. I. At which I could not but wonder that it should be in the power of an ambassador to dispense with anything which he ought to signify to his master. and sufficiency in the nowledge of arms than those of the ing. "that if his captains and soldiers were not men of another ind of fidelity. the other. for current pay. and particularly the two last passages. according to the rules of art. valuing the interest of discipline much more than that of the wor in hand. in the meantime. The said Sieur de Langey. should seem. we may on the other side consider that so precise and implicit an obedience as this is only due to positive and limited commands. and I should rather conceive it had been the servant's duty faithfully to have represented to him the whole thing as it passed. how sound or convincing soever. adds that the forenamed ambassadors. insomuch that P. rather to belong to him who is to give the law than to him who is only to receive it. the same whom the Romans reputed five times happy. he would immediately go with a rope about his nec and sue to him for mercy" (and it should seem the emperor had really this. and amongst the rest. would not be so served in my little concerns. pursuing his history. methin s. I have. in my time. but also. presuming upon his own science and sufficiency in those affairs. but also in prudence and good counsel. for my part. is to corrupt the office of command. to the end that the liberty of selecting. to leave him ignorant of his affairs. that he challenged the ing to fight him in his shirt with rapier and poignard in a boat. judging.

and with much ado. but even amongst soldiers. as we read of the Emperor Theophilus. writing to a man whose profession it was best to understand those things.for having rather obeyed the express words of the ing's letters. in a battle he lost against the Agarenes. and the French white cross into the red cross of Spain! When Monsieur de Bourbon too Rome. Paul was ta en from us by the Count de Bures and Monsieur de Reu. steteruntque comae et vox faucibus haesit. 'tis a strange passion. it is most certain that it begets a terrible astonishment and confusion during the fit. in so vast an extent of dominion. as in the two first: sometimes it nails them to the ground. and Crassus. and then facing about.adeo pavor etiam auxilia formidat. colours and all. in the breach.Aeneid. an ensign who was upon guard at Borgo San Pietro was seized with such a fright upon the first alarm. how often has it converted floc s of sheep into armed squadrons. The li e madness does sometimes push on a whole multitude. this delay. and chimaeras. at last came to himself. and pre-acquainting him to what use this mast was designed. did he not seem to consult his advice. which is so true. be this as it may.*(2) till such time as                     . that he san down. fall out so well with Captain Julio's ensign. the one to the same place from which the other had fled. Men of understanding do yet. and in a manner invite him to interpose his better judgment? {BK1_17 XVII. however. OF FEAR Obstupui. for he. stone-dead. condemn the custom of the ings of Persia to give their lieutenants and agents so little rein. who. it was a very memorable fear that so seized. spectres.. but not till he had first blindly advanced above three hundred paces into the open field. and in the same siege. they must fain have recourse to their further commands. reeds and bullrushes into pi es and lances. and such a one that the physicians say there is no other whatever that sooner dethrones our judgment from its proper seat. of all others. a sort of men over whom. two great parties were so amazed with fear that they ran two opposite ways. I omit the vulgar sort. who thought it had been a sally upon them. upon the least arising difficulties. ii. It did not. having often very much prejudiced their affairs. and my voice stuc in my throat. contracted. * Sometimes it adds wings to the heels. was so astonished and stupefied that he had no power to fly. was immediately cut to pieces by the enemy. without any manner of wound or hurt at all. out at a porthole. for in one of the encounters that Germanicus had with the Germans. being so astonished with fear as to throw himself. friends into enemies. than the necessity of the affairs they had in hand. at the time when St. and froze up the heart of a gentleman. draw up to receive him. and. and ran directly upon the enemy. I AM not so good a naturalist (as they call it) as to discern by what secret springs fear has its motion in us. thin ing he had retreated toward the inward defences of the city. that he threw himself out at a breach with his colours upon his shoulder. to whom it one while represents their great-grandsires risen out of their graves in their shrouds. seeing Monsieur de Bourbon's people. * * I was amazed. to this day. even in those of the best settled temper. but. that. and fetters them from moving. it ought to have the least power. my hair stood on end. another while hobgoblins. that I myself have seen very many become frantic through fear. and saw his error. he retreated full speed through the same breach by which he had gone out.

. * Tacitus. by being ta en. and this is that they call a panic terror. or dashed themselves to pieces. and to give vent to those tears and lamentations that the other more potent passion had till then suspended. and delivered from fear. that passion alone. ii. all wounded and bloody as they are. All things were in disorder and fury till. I will ill you. {BK1_17 ^paragraph 5} The thing in the world I am most afraid of is fear. exceeding all other accidents. were spectators of that horrible murder? Yet so it was. or exiles. Tusc. thus purchasing an ignominious flight at the same price they might have gained a glorious victory. and by force of oars to escape away. where nothing was to be heard but affrighted voices and outcries. having before deprived us of all sense both of duty and honour. have hanged or drowned themselves.Manuel. *(2) So much does fear dread even the means of safety. What affliction could be greater or more just than that of Pompey's friends. lose your empire. The Gree s ac nowledge another ind of fear. will never be made so much as to loo him in the face." But fear does then manifest its utmost power when it throws us upon a valiant despair. but such as have once conceived a good sound fear of the enemy. of banishment.Quintus Curtius. they had leisure to turn their thoughts to the loss of their captain. a body of ten thousand foot. under the consul Sempronius. went and threw themselves headlong upon the great battalion of the enemies. Such as have been well banged in some s irmish. with prayers and sacrifices.. if you will not follow me. impatient of the perpetual alarms of fear. which with marvellous force and fury they charged through and through.                             . and lose all appetite and repose. slaves. Tum paver sapientiam omnem mihi ex animo expectorat. or of slavery. seeing no other escape for their cowardice. Annal. whereas such as are actually poor. in his ship.. they had appeased their gods. Such a one was that which brought so wonderful a desolation upon Carthage. possessed them with so great alarm that it is observed they thought of nothing but calling upon the mariners to ma e haste. said to him. that had ta en fright. give us sufficiently to understand that fear is more importunate and insupportable than death itself. In the first pitched battle the Romans lost against Hannibal. and there to charge.. as if they had been enemies come to surprise their city. by an impulse from heaven. Such as are in immediate fear of losing their estates. may yet. "Sir. for it is better you should lose your life than. be brought on again the next day to charge. and routed with a very great slaughter of the Carthaginians. having jogged and sha ed him so as to rouse him out of his trance. that surprises us without any visible cause. And the many people who. differing from any we have spo en of yet. who. where the inhabitants were seen to sally out of their houses as to an alarm. iv. in Cicero. so that whole nations and whole armies have been struc with it. live in perpetual anguish. in the trouble of it. one of the principal commanders of his army. * * "Then fear drove out all intelligence from my mind. and ill one another. i. that the fear of the Egyptian vessels they saw coming to board them. wound. Quaes. till being arrived at Tyre.Ennius. ofttimes live as merrily as other fol .

a conqueror of one-half of the world and general of so many armies.. * -                         . successors to that mighty Alexander. are subject to be totally changed into a quite contrary condition. Nimirum hac die Una plus vixi mihi. and seems to ma e sport of them. it seems.Ovid. however fortune may smile upon them. "but neither was Priam unhappy at his years. and by him condemned to die. there are also spirits above that are envious of the grandeurs here below. * Mary. in our fathers' days. as he was going to execution cried out.{BK1_18 XVIII. and. The fairest of all queens. who being ta en prisoner by Cyrus. that as storms and tempests have a malice against the proud and overtowering heights of our lofty buildings. and he sending to inquire of him what it meant. THE very children now the story of King Croesus to this purpose. Croesus gave him to understand that he now found the teaching Solon had formerly given him true to his cost. a miserable suppliant to the rascally officers of a ing of Egypt: so much did the prolongation of five or six months of life cost the great Pompey. that some occult power upsets human affairs. THAT MEN ARE NOT TO JUDGE OF OUR HAPPINESS TILL AFTER DEATH Scilicet ultima semper Exspectanda dies homini est: dicique beatus Ante obitum nemo supremaque funera debet. quam vivendum fuit. a pedant at Corinth.Lucretius. did she not come to die by the hand of an executioner? Unworthy and barbarous cruelty! And a thousand more examples there are of the same ind. a tyrant of Sicily. "O Solon. Queen of Scots. whom all Italy had so long truc led under." said he. became joiners and scriveners at Rome. * {BK1_18 ^paragraph 5} * So true it is. to show the power she has. And it should seem. also. but not till he had lived ten years in captivity." In a short time. which." by reason of the uncertainty and mutability of human things. the glittering fasces and the cruel axes spurns under foot. to overthrow what she was so many years in building. which was. that Fortune sometimes lies in wait to surprise the last hour of our lives. ma ing us cry out with Laberius. v. ings of Macedon. And so it was that Agesilaus made answer to one who was saying what a happy young man the King of Persia was. Solon!" which being presently reported to Cyrus.. et pulchros fasces. could never be said to be happy till they had been seen to pass over the last day of their lives. to come so young to so mighty a ingdom: "'Tis true. upon very light and trivial occasions. Ludovico Sforza. * * We should all loo forward to our last day: no one can be called happy till he is dead and buried. "That men.. for. was seen to die a wretched prisoner at Loches. saevasque secures Proculcare. iii. Met. the tenth Du e of Milan. which was the worst part of his fortune. Usque adeo res humanas vis abdita quaedam Obterit. in a moment. * widow to the greatest ing in Europe. ac ludibrio sibi habere videtur.

He arrived. that the very felicity of life itself. Iphicrates. and the most infamous to boot. his ambitious and generous designs had nothing in them so high and great as their interruption. at the place to which his ambition aimed.Lucretius. 'tis the day that is judge of all the rest. there is no more counterfeiting: we must spea out plain. Scipio. he would infinitely wrong that man who would weigh him without the honour and grandeur of his end.. well wiped away the ill opinion that till then every one had conceived of him. being a philosopher (with which sort of men the favours and disgraces of Fortune stand for nothing. gives us leisure to maintain the same gravity of aspect. "before that question can be resolved. * * Then at last truth issues from the heart. the hardest act of his part. "'tis the day. but I have. and discover what there is of pure and clean in the bottom of the pot. THAT TO STUDY PHILOSOPHY IS TO LEARN TO DIE -                 . There may be disguise and dissimulation in all the rest: where these fine philosophical discourses are only put on. in dying. the man remains. God has ordered all things as it has best pleased Him." said he. either to the ma ing a man happy or unhappy. manet res. ii. in my time. patiently and tranquilly. and the principal concern I have for my own is that I may die well. and in all circumstances composed. and in the height and flower of its increase. seen three the most execrable persons that ever I new in all manner of abominable living. who all died a very regular death. without completing his course. the visor's gone. even to perfection. iii. ought never to be attributed to any man till he has first been seen to play the last. I have seen many by their death give a good or an ill repute to their whole life. with so glorious an end that. in my opinion. doubtless. In the judgment I ma e of another man's life. but. in truth. and with whom grandeurs and powers are accidents of a quality almost indifferent) I am apt to thin that he had some further aim. the father-in-law of Pompey. and." And. in this sense.Macrobius. et eripitur persona. and where accident. which depends upon the tranquillity and contentment of a well-descended spirit. Wherefore." says one of the ancients. or himself. "that must be judge of all my foregoing years. "You must first see us die. but he.that is. and the resolution and assurance of a well-ordered soul. with greater glory than he could either have hoped or desired. {BK1_18 ^paragraph 10} Nam verae voces tum demum pectore ab imo Ejiciuntur. at this last. not touching us to the quic . all the other actions of our life ought to be tried and sifted: 'tis the master-day. {BK1_19 XIX." To death do I refer the assay of the fruit of all my studies: we shall then see whether my discourses came only from my mouth or from my heart. of a certain person. I always observe how he carried himself at his death. and that his meaning was. And. in this last scene of death. anticipating by his fall the name and power to which he aspired in perfecting his career. Chabrias. Epaminondas being as ed which of the three he had in greatest esteem.* I have lived longer by this one day than I should have done. There are brave and fortunate deaths: I have seen death cut the thread of the progress of a prodigious advancement. this good advice of Solon may reasonably be ta en.

. the main thing at which we all aim. at our ease. and frail. in sum. difficult. He renders himself unworthy of it who will counterpoise its cost with its fruit. because study and contemplation do in some sort withdraw from us our soul. The felicity and beatitude that glitters in Virtue. Those who preach to us that the quest of it is craggy. as the Holy Scripture says. the effect. from which we have denominated it. without ever possessing it. be rejected at the first motion. and.Transcurramus solertissimas nugas. if it could deserve this fair name. otherwise. and neither understands the blessing nor how to use it. but its fruition pleasant. he ever mixes his own part with it. and gives us a pure and                       . and natural. The attempt ever relishes of the quality of the thing to which it is directed. and. sharpen. for it is a good part of. nor to endeavour anything but. It amuses me to rattle in their ears this word. and employ it separately from the body. has particular to itself so many several sorts of sharp and wounding passions. and if it signify some supreme pleasure and excessive contentment. Let the philosophers say what they will. * Let us s ip over those subtle trifles. I find it less exempt from traverses and inconveniences than virtue itself. besides that the enjoyment is more momentary. the contempt of death is one of the greatest. is pleasure. it has its watchings. but whatsoever personage a man ta es upon himself to perform. and to approach it only. Now. much more aptly than in voluptuousness. This pleasure. and so dull a satiety attending it. seeing that of all the pleasures we now. they ennoble. or say. Epist. as that which is more favourable. to teach us not to fear to die. is only the more seriously voluptuous. and heighten the perfect and divine pleasure they procure us. its sweat and its blood. and not that of vigour. even in virtue itself. shines throughout all her appurtenances and avenues. for being more gay.Seneca. moreover. it is more due to the assistance of virtue than to any other assistance whatever. more robust. and more manly. of all the benefits that virtue confers upon us. which they so nauseate to hear. gentle. and not of privilege. that li e consequences and difficulties overwhelm and render it austere and inaccessible. either our reason moc s us. as the means that accommodates human life with a soft and easy tranquillity. And we mista e if we thin that these incommodities serve it for a spur and a seasoning to its sweetness (as in nature one contrary is quic ened by another). more sinewy.CICERO says "that to study philosophy is nothing but to prepare one's self to die. when we come to virtue. and we ought to give it the name of pleasure. even to the first entry and utmost limits. to ma e us live well. fasts. the very pursuit is pleasant. whereas. But they are deceived. and painful. or it ought to have no other aim but our contentment only. and consubstantial with. because all the wisdom and reasoning in the world do in the end conclude in this point. as equal it to the severest penance. and labours. And to say the truth. which is a ind of apprenticeship and a resemblance of death. though we ma e use of divers means to attain it: they would. The other. fluid. that pleasure is our end.* there is more in them of opposition and obstinacy than is consistent with so sacred a profession. and meaner pleasure. or else. for who would give ear to him that should propose affliction and misery for his end? The controversies and disputes of the philosophical sects upon this point are merely verbal. and." The reason of which is. All the opinions of the world agree in this. what do they mean by that but to tell us that is always unpleasing? For what human means will ever attain its enjoyment? The most perfect have been fain to content themselves to aspire unto it. it ought to be by way of competition.

without which all other pleasure would be extinct. as well by reason these accidents are not of so great necessity. and the other accidents to which human life is subject. as Xenophilus the musician. it is not. De Finib. numeratque dies.Horace. torquetur peste futura. with common accord. i. The end of our race is death. poverty. prepare for them the best entertainment you can.. which.Claudian. if it fright us.. it hangs over us. semper impendet. death can. computes the time of travelling. carry them to fine houses by the way. spatioque viarum Metitur vitam. And although they all in li e manner. at the worst. ii. Od. would not alter and deprave their palate from tasting these regalios? Audit iter. but. cut short and put an end to all other inconveniences. *                       . the greater part of man ind passing over their whole lives without ever nowing what poverty is. * {BK1_19 ^paragraph 5} -and. 'tis the necessary object of our aim... {BK1_19 ^paragraph 10} Do you thin they can relish it? and that the fatal end of their journey being continually before their eyes. *(3) * We are all bound one voyage. consequently. it is inevitableOmnes eodem cogimur. * * He considers the route. Qui capite ipse suo instituit vestigia retro.pleasant taste of living. measuring his life by the length of the journey. *(2) Our courts of justice often send bac condemned criminals to be executed upon the place where the crime was committed. ii. whenever we please. We may continually turn our heads this way and that. the lot of all. *(2) Ever. how is it possible to advance a step without a fit of ague? The remedy the vulgar use is not to thin on't. li e Tantalus' stone. teach us also to despise pain. for which there is no sort of consolation. All must to eternal exile sail away. et nos in aeternum Exilium impositura cymbae. 'tis a perpetual torment. quasi saxum Tantalo. nor the melody of birds or harps bring bac sleep. Od.. is to come out of the urn. Non Siculae dapes Dulcem elaborabunt saporem: Non avium citharaeque cantus Somnum reducent. nevertheless.. Which is the reason why all the rules centre and concur in this one article. but from what brutish stupidity can they derive so gross a blindness? They must bridle the ass by the tail. if it frights us. But as to death. sooner or later. iii.Horace.. and some without sorrow or sic ness. and torments himself by thin ing of the blow to come.. in Ruf. There is no way by which it may not reach us. as also because. as in a suspected country.Cicero. quae. who lived a hundred and six years in perfect and continual health. with the same solicitude. *(3) Sicilian dainties will not tic le their palates. omnium Versatur urna serius ocius Sors exitura.

{BK1_19 ^paragraph 15} 'tis no wonder if he be often trapped in the pitfall.. to ta e example by the humanity of Jesus Christ Himself. who has assured unto thee the term of life? Thou dependest upon physicians' tales: rather consult effects and experience. According to the common course of things. provided there was any mention of life in the case. ta e but an account. In the mean time. 1533.Lucretius. The Romans. I was born betwixt eleven and twelve o'cloc in the forenoon the last day of February. And because the ma ing a man's will is in reference to dying. To omit fevers and pleurisies. * Who in his folly see s to advance bac wards. Alexander. and of those who have ennobled their lives by their renown." Peradventure. was to much purpose circumspect to avoid that danger. 'tis long since that thou hast lived by extraordinary favour: thou hast already outlived the ordinary term of life. and seemed so ominous. now. my neighbour. at least. But what? Young and old die upon the same terms. and then betwixt grief and terror. the term we have lived is worth our money. as the saying is. as it were the name of the devil. according to our computation. who. that was no more than a man. not a man will be persuaded to ta e a pen in hand to that purpose till the physician has passed sentence upon him. I ma e account to live. "Such a one has lived. * {BK1_19 ^paragraph 20} * Be as cautious as he may. threatened with the fall of a house. man can never foresee the danger that may at any hour befall him. Cicero. Quid quisque. vitet. And that is so. Od. How many several ways has death to surprise us? * Plutarch. It is full both of reason and piety too." or "Such a one has ceased to live". * for. and did not one of his ancestors die by the jostle of a hog? Aeschylus. And from them it is that we have borrowed our expression. died also at the same age. it carried yet some sound of consolation.Horace. no one departs out of life otherwise than if he had but just before entered into it.. were folly. iv. neither is any man so old and decrepit. and instead of pronouncing such a one is dead. said. found out a way to soften and spin it out by a periphrasis. nunquam homini satis Cautum est in horas. and totally given him over. rec on up thy acquaintance. "The late Monsieur such and such a one. does not thin he has yet twenty years good to come. by reason that this poor syllable death sounded so harshly to their ears. as many more. and it is now just fifteen days since I was complete nine-and-thirty years old. how many more have died before they arrived at thy age than have attained unto it. and I dare lay a wager thou wilt find more who have died before than after five-and-thirty years of age. and many cross themselves. Fool that thou art. into Lyons? Hast thou not seen one of our ings illed at a tilting. who would ever have imagined that a du e of Brittany should be pressed to death in a crowd as that du e was. God nows in how fit a condition of understanding he is to do it. having heard of Methuselah. seeing that he was noc ed on the head by a tortoise falling out of an                                   . to trouble a man's self with the thought of a thing so far off. though past. He ended His life at three-and-thirty years. They affright people with the very mention of death. The greatest man. ii. beginning the year the 1st of January. at the entry of Pope Clement.

or avoid fancying that it has us. their wives. three-and-twenty years old. every moment. Tigillinus. Another was cho ed with a grapestone. but. an emperor illed with the scratch of a comb in combing his head. Marquis of Mantua. than be wise and captious.Idem. a brother of mine. a Platonic philosopher. all I aim at is. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 25} But 'tis folly to thin of doing anything that way. therefore. and Aufidius with a jostle against the door as he entered the council-chamber. I am of this mind. which. and his own stay of life expired.. Ludovico.. though by creeping under a calf's s in. son of Guido di Gonzaga. and one of our Popes. et aere. Quam sapere. then what torment. of an apoplexy occasioned by that blow. surprising them at unawares and unprepared. so changed. I ta e hold of. they gallop and dance. Aemilius Lepidus with a stumble at his own threshold. I would then advise to borrow arms even of cowardice itself. a young man. if I may bring in an example of my own blood. and the recreations that will most contribute to it. their children. et ringi. and that it will catch you as well flying and playing the poltroon. received a blow of a ball a little above his right ear. playing a match at tennis. and if a man could by any means avoid it. nor so much as sat down to repose himself. he too no notice of it.. Were it an enemy that could be avoided. delirus inersque videri. These so frequent and common examples passing every day before our eyes. ma e more early provision for it. was condemned by death. While Caius Julius.. vel denique fallant. ii.eagle's talons in the air. but he himself meanwhile. * * I had rather seem made or a sluggard. was anointing the eyes of a patient. as it gave no manner of sign of wound or contusion. sells us its merchandise too dear. to pass my time at my ease. could it possibly lodge in the brain of any man of sense (which I thin utterly impossible). by the throat? What matter is it. you will say. died within five or six hours after. The poor judge Bebius gave adjournment in a case for eight days. as little glorious and exemplary as you will. nevertheless. Epist. and not a word of death. * -and seeing that no temper of arms is of proof to secure usIlle licet ferro cautus se condat. how is it possible a man should disengage himself from the thought of death. and (of worse example) Speusippus. and. so that my defects are agreeable to myself. Nec parcit imbellis juventae Poplitibus timidoque tergo. who had already given sufficient testimony of his valour. And betwixt the very thighs of woman. death closed his own. what outcries. but seeing it is not. Dum mea delectent mala me.                   . and so confounded? A man must. which way it comes to pass. They go. Praetulerim. the physician. Martin. All this is very fine: but withal. Captain St. as standing to't li e an honest manNempe et fugacem persequitur virum. or friends. provided a man does not terrify himself with the expectation? For my part. or that I am not painfully conscious of them. they come. and this brutish negligence. captain of the watch at Rome. what madness and despair! Did you ever see anything so subdued. when it comes either to themselves. Cornelius Gallus the praetor. I am one that should not be ashamed of the shift.

and say to ourselves. Paulus Aemilius answered him whom the miserable ing of Macedon. will be the more welcome. sent to entreat him that he would not lead him in his triumph. Jucundum quum aetas florida ver ageret. even in the most wanton time of my age. let us encourage and fortify ourselves. death will pull his head out of his armour. has unlearned to serve.. delivers us from all subjection and constraint. and there is nothing I have more continually entertained myself withal than imaginations of death. iii. quae non sperabitur. but meditative. let us ta e a way quite contrary to the common course. hora. when past. Upon all occasions represent him to our imagination in his every shape. let us converse and be familiar with him. whilst I was entertaining myself with the remembrance of some one. Let us disarm him of his novelty and strangeness. i. * * When my florid age rejoiced in pleasant spring. In truth. In the company of ladies. The premeditation of death is the premeditation of liberty. Epist. if nature do not help a little. and at games. let us loo for him everywhere. he who has learned to die. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 30} * He pursues the flying poltroon.. surprised. his prisoner. and considering how many several ways this jollity of ours tends to death. iii. "Well. at the stumbling of a horse. * * Thin each day.Idem. and have nothing so frequent in our thoughts as death. The Egyptians were wont to do after this manner. and what if it had been death itself?" and. is thy last: the next day as unexpected." * {BK1_19 ^paragraph 35} * Plutarch. and fight him.. at the falling of a tile. *(2) Let him hide beneath iron or brass in his fear.. it is very hard for art and industry to perform anything to purpose.Horace. who in the height of their feasting and mirth. Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum: Grata superveniet. "Let him ma e that request to himself. in all things. a few days before.Mors tamen inclusum protrahet inde caput *(2) -let us learn bravely to stand our ground. And to begin to deprive him of the greatest advantage he has over us. or the uncertainty of some hope. lxviii. amidst our jollity and feasting.Propertius. at the least pric with a pin. There is nothing of evil in life. but that we have some intervals of reflecting upon. nor spares the hamstrings of the unwarli e youth who turns his bac . returning                     . and with how many dangers it threatens it..Catullus. set the remembrance of our frail condition before our eyes. Aemilius Paulus. I am in my own nature not melancholic. for him who rightly comprehends that the privation of life is no evil: to now how to die. Epist. Where death waits for us is uncertain. thereupon. caused a dried s eleton of a man to be brought into the room to serve for a memento to their guests.. never suffering ourselves to be so far transported with our delights. Let us evermore. some have perhaps thought me possessed with some jealousy. let us presently consider. with a burning fever of which he died.

I made haste to write it down there. A friend of mine the other day turning over my tablets. I. Neither health. those who are engaged in battle. iii. nec post unquam revocare licebit. and. may be done to-day. I am escaping. that he must die before he has married his daughter. that what may be done to-morrow. besides the accident that immediately threatens us. whenever he shall come. whenever it shall please                     . as near as we can. found therein a memorandum of something I would have done after my decease. at first. and death. but with often turning and re-turning them in one's mind. and it eternally runs in my mind. yet when that thing came into my head. and ready to go. than s be to God. Epist. and those that sit by the fire. methin s. to have no business with any one but one's self. a third seems only troubled that he must lose the society of his wife. another. for aught I new. because I was not certain to live till I came home. the conversation of his son. at this instant in such a condition.from an entertainment li e this. with his head full of idle fancies of love and jollity. Yet did not this thought wrin le my forehead any more than any other. were it but an hour's business I had to do. for my part. that he is thereby prevented of a glorious victory. at last. whereupon I told him. can bring nothing along with him I did not expect long before. Nemo altero fragilior est: nemo in crastinum sui certior. and merry and well. the longest leisure would appear too short. for never man was so distrustful of his life. otherwise. as the principal comfort and concern of his being. at that time. in truth. should be in a perpetual fright and frenzy. no man more certain than another of to-morrow. I am at all hours as well prepared as I am ever li e to be. does prolong. we shall find that the sound and the sic . and confine them to my own particular concerns. For my part. nor sic ness contract my hopes. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 45} Quid brevi fortes jaculamur aevo Multa? * for we shall there find wor enough to do. * No man is more fragile than another. that I am ready to dislodge. which I have hitherto ever enjoyed very strong and vigorous. ta e care. become so familiar as to be no trouble at all. Hazards and dangers do. the same destiny was attending me. without any need of addition. they. and very seldom interrupted. * For anything I have to do before I die. and that. above all things. or educated his children. that though I was no more than a league's distance only from my own house. and if we consider how many thousands more remain and hang over our heads. as it was really true. We should always. Every minute. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 40} Jam fuerit. be booted and spurred. are the one as near it as the other.Seneca. as mine was then. and those who sit idle at home.. a fourth. those that are abroad at sea. One man complains. little or nothing hasten our end. It is impossible but we must feel a sting in such imaginations as these. As a man that am eternally brooding over my own thoughts. never to be recalled.Lucretius. I am. never man so uncertain as to its duration. more than of death. * * Presently the present will have gone.

ii. with no such passionate desire to see it brought to perfection. I disengage myself throughout from all worldly relations. for so short a life. or. and funeral obsequies should put us in mind of our frail condition. iv. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 60} * Plutarch. my leave is soon ta en of all but myself. minaeque Murorum ingentes. and then let death ta e me planting my cabbages.Him. when he was gone no farther than the fifteenth or sixteenth of our ings. Manent.. opera interrupta. Quum moriar medium solvar et inter opus. and in the most frequented places of the city." they cry. * {BK1_19 ^paragraph 55} * When I shall die. complained of nothing so much as that destiny was about to cut the thread of a chronicle history he was then compiling. and. To this purpose it was that men first appointed the places of sepulture adjoining the churches. that the continual spectacle of bones. graves. aiunt.Lucretius. * Why. that dying. Quin etiam exhilarare viris convivia caede           . tease ourselves with so many projects?Horace. let it be doing that I had designed. omnia ademit Una dies infesta mihi tot praemia vitae.. who. Amor. We are to discharge ourselves from these vulgar and hurtful humours. Illud in his rebus non addunt. O miser. The deadest deaths are the best. the tall pinnacles of the walls unmade. * * The wor s remain incomplete. I would always have a man to be doing. Lycurgus.".Ovid. iii. says Lycurgus. and children. Od.. ii. than I expect to do.Aeneid. iii. and still less of my garden's not being finished. We are born to action. * * "Wretch that I am. * the common people. I saw one die. that they should not be startled at the sight of a corpse.Lucretius. A man must design nothing that will require so much time to the finishing. we have no longer a desire to possess things. * * They do not add. at his last gasp. Miser. as much as in him lies. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 50} And the builder. nec tibi earum Jam desiderium rerum super insidit una.. to accustom. and to the end. and to sha e hands with all manner of interest in it. without regret for anything whatsoever. to extend and spin out the offices of life. indifferent to him. "one fatal day has deprived me of so many joys of life. says he.. Never did any one prepare to bid adieu to the world more absolutely and unreservedly. women. at least.

{BK1_19 ^paragraph 65} Let us but observe in the ordinary changes and declinations we daily suffer. and the nearer I approach to the latter.Silius Italicus. is it nothing to go so far. than I find them really to be. to old men how small a portion of life is left!. Nature herself assists and encourages us: if the death be sudden and violent. or Pseudo. Neither is there anything of which I am so inquisitive. that. saepe et super ipsa cadentum Pocula. but it was designed for another and less profitable end. And as the Egyptians after their feasts were wont to present the company with a great image of death. Dicearchus made one. as I have experienced in other occurrences. to an old weather-beaten soldier of his guards. loo s. I would compile a register. Let them say what they will: to premeditate is doubtless a very great advantage. Caesar. at least. things often appear greater to us at a distance than near at hand. who came to as him leave that he might ill himself. to which he gave that title. and covering the tables with blood. I naturally enter into a certain loathing and disdain of life. some one may object. I have found. Peradventure. I hope to find death the same.Gallus. Elegies. and to combine with the repast the dire spectacle of men contending with the sword. What remains to an old man of the vigour of his youth and better days? Heu! senibus vitae portio quanta manet. of the various deaths of men: he who should teach men to die. but continually in my mouth.. "Drin and be merry.Mos olim. The vigour wherein I now am. that being well. how nature deprives us of the light and sense of our bodily decay. that the pain and terror of dying so infinitely exceed all manner of imagination. would at the same time teach them to live. as Caesar says. If I were a writer of boo s. we have not leisure to fear. and apprehend them to be much more troublesome. by so much I loo upon death with less terror. and it is manifest enough. with a comment. when they lie the most heavy upon me. that I have a particular fancy for that subject. than when languishing of a fever. that the best fencer will be quite out of his play when it comes to the push. by my crowding in examples of this ind. by one that cried out to them. the cheerfulness and delight wherein I now live. and by how much I have less to do with the commodities of life. i. when I am well in health. I find I have much more ado to digest this resolution of dying. their words. as the manner of men's deaths. Which ma es me hope.Maximian. I magnify those inconveniences by one-half. that the farther I remove from the first. * * Alas. by reason that I begin to lose the use and pleasure of them. respersis non parco sanguine mensis. the dying in many cases falling upon the cups. if otherwise. And. and delight to inform myself. I have had maladies in much greater horror than when really afflicted with them. ta ing notice of his                     . nor any places in history I am so intent upon. and bearing. * * It was formerly the custom to enliven banquets with slaughter. by imagination. and besides. ma e the contrary estate appear in so great a disproportion to my present condition. so it is my custom to have death not only in my imagination. for such shalt thou be when thou art dead". without disturbance or alteration? Moreover. I perceive that as I engage further in my disease. et miscere epulis spectacula dira Certantum ferro. I shall the more easily exchange the one for the other. that. xi.

an insensible pace step by step conducts us to that miserable state. 'tis the true and sovereign liberty here on earth. when it shall happen. anxiety. in custody of a surly eeper. and by that means ma es it familiar to us. iii. Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus. has less force to support a burden. an easy and. while she stands in fear of it. pleasantly answered.. i. Epist. seeing we are threatened by so many sorts of death.. I do not thin humanity capable of enduring such a change: but nature. and all the other injuries of fortune. neque Auster Dux inquieti turbidus Adriae." Should a man fall into this condition on the sudden. the prince of the stormy Adriatic. and it is the same with the soul. though it be really a harder death than the final dissolution of a languishing body. when I as him.but. is it not infinitely worse eternally to fear them all.Horace. since it is inevitable? To him that told Socrates. bent and bowed. "The thirty tyrants have sentenced thee to death". * {BK1_19 ^paragraph 70} * Not the menacing loo of a tyrant sha es her well-settled soul. "Thou fanciest.Horace. Non vultus instantis tyranni Mente quatit solida. that we are to raise her up firm and erect against the power of this adversary.. that thou art yet alive." said he. Not only the argument of reason invites us to itfor why should we fear to lose a thing. "And nature them. Opinor. or fear. than the death of old age. poverty. set me free. moriar. get this advantage.. if she once can assure herself. and therefore it is. then. so in our death is the death of all things included. she may boast (which is a thing as it were surpassing human condition) that it is impossible that disquiet. and to contemn prisons and chains. Hoc sentit. nor turbulent Auster. Od. forasmuch as the fall is not so great from an uneasy being to none at all. is the same folly as to be sorry we were not alive a                     . me solvet. so that we are insensible of the stro e when our youth dies in us. also. In manicis et Compedibus saevo te sub custode tenebo Ipse Deus. such a temper moves. that fortifies us wherewithal to defy violence and injustice. mistress of necessity. The body.withered body and decrepit motion. or any other disturbance. therefore. as it were. should inhabit or have any place in her. What a ridiculous thing it is to trouble ourselves about ta ing the only step that is to deliver us from all trouble! As our birth brought us the birth of all things. Let us. This god I thin is death. so. shame. For. which being lost cannot be lamented?. mors ultima linea rerum est. * * I will eep thee in fetters and chains.A god will. Our very religion itself has no surer human foundation than the contempt of death. leading us by the hand. as it is from a sprightly and flourishing being to one that is troublesome and painful. nor yet the strong hand of thundering Jove. simul atque volam. than once to undergo one of them? And what matters it. Death is the term of all things. as it is impossible she should ever be at rest. And therefore to lament that we shall not be alive a hundred years hence. as many of us as can.. She is then become sovereign of all her lusts and passions.

death is a part of you. when you are no more alive. . Ast. and so did we put off our former veil in entering into it.. trees. and short. when they have won the race." says she. and so much it cost us to enter into this. or. The day of your birth is one day's advance towards the grave. without passion or fear. Fur. iii. . This very being of yours that you now enjoy is equally divided betwixt life and death. too away also an hour. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 75} But nature compels us to it. and even of some animals. vitai lampada tradunt. quasi cursores. hora carpsit. li e the runners in the games. is no less ridiculous. rivers. "as you entered into it. iii.. "Go out of this world. and those that die at five in the evening. in comparison with eternity. and whilst you endeavour to evade it. the same. Death is the beginning of another life. Is it reasonable so long to fear a thing that will so soon be despatched? Long life. Her. we die. * {BK1_19 ^paragraph 80} Nascentes morimur. in their decrepitude: which of us would not laugh to see this moment of continuance put into the consideration of weal or woe? The most and the least.. to the next comer. you purloin from life. for there is no long.. you evade yourselves. because you still are after death. to things that are no more. live by turns. Cur non ut plenus vitae conviva recedis? * {BK1_19 ^paragraph 85} * Why not depart from life. -           . that never live above a day: they which die at eight of the cloc in the morning. "Shall I exchange for you this beautiful contexture of things? 'Tis the condition of your creation. "All the whole time you live. are by death made all one. finisque ab origine pendet. the same pass you made from death to life. stars. Nothing can be a grievance that is but once. if you had rather have it so. of ours.Lucretius. *(2) * The first hour that gave us life. and. Et. . and more sensibly and essentially. or yet with the duration of mountains. give up the lamp. ii. after the same manner. you are dead after life. die in their youth. If you have made your profit of life. 'tis a part of the life of the world. So did we weep. go your way satisfied. amongst themselves. . as a sated guest from a feast?Lucretius. iv. you have had enough of it. The perpetual wor of your life is but to lay the foundation of death. and live at the expense of life itself. repeat from life to death.Seneca. You are in death.. Inter se mortales mutua vivunt . and the end commences with the beginning. but dying all the while you live.hundred years ago. *(2) As we are born. Your death is a part of the order of the universe. Prima. Aristotle tells us that there are certain little beasts upon the ban s of the river Hypanis. while you are in life. and death handles the dying much more rudely than the dead. quae vitam dedit. * * Mortals.Manilius. nor short.

"Life in itself is neither good nor evil. live as long as you can. as others have given place to you. this very sun. Who can complain of being comprehended in the same destiny. eadem sunt omnia semper. you shall by that nothing shorten the space you are to be dead. nor will your posterity. * * I can devise. * -               . if it was unprofitable to you. "I am not prepared to create for you any new recreations. Nam tibi praeterea quod machiner. ever therein confined. There is no other light.. et ingratum occidat omne? * * Why see to add longer life. iii. *(2) {BK1_19 ^paragraph 95} * We are even turning in the same circle. and be again tormented?. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 90} Non alium videre patres. and nows no other art but to begin again. is the same your ancestors enjoyed.. no other shade. the youth. Rursum quod pereat male. and that shall also entertain your posterity. ii. what need you to care to lose it. this moon. it will always be the same thing.. * * Your grandsires saw no other things. 'tis all to no purpose. iii. Georg. you have seen all: one day is equal and li e to all other days. as if you had died at nurse.Lucretius.Lucretius. Equality is the soul of equity. atque insumus usque. and the old age of the world: the year has played his part. these very stars. Licet quot vis vivendo vincere secla. Versamur ibidem. If you have observed the revolution of my four seasons. merely to renew ill-spent time. *(2) The year is even turning round in the same footsteps. you shall be every whit as long in the condition you so much fear. it is the scene of good or evil. come the worst that can come. And. iii.Virgil. nor find anything else to please you: 'tis the same thing over and over again."If you have not nown how to ma e the best use of it. the virility. inveniamque Quod placeat. Mors aeterna tamen nihilominus illa manebit. they comprehend the infancy.Lucretius. as you ma e it. "And. to what end would you desire longer to eep it? Cur amplius addere quaeris. nihil est. this very order and disposition of things. the distribution and variety of all the acts of my comedy are performed in a year. wherein all are involved? Besides. i. if you have lived a day. * Atque in se sua per vestigia volvitur annus. aliumve nepotes Aspicient. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 100} "Give place to others.Manilius.

*(2) * No one then troubles himself about himself. iii. Qui possit vivus tibi te lugere peremptum.. if there could be anything less than nothing. nor does it any more concern you. but in the use of time. death still will remain eternal. mortem minus ad nos esse putandum. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 110} *(2) Nor has any regret about himself. how as nothing to us is the old age of times past. iii.Ibid. vita perfuncta. "Nor shall you so much as wish for the life you are so concerned about. by reason that you are still in being. Multo. there can be no other living self to lament you dead. no one dies before his hour: the time you leave behind was no more yours. if company will ma e it more pleasant or more easy to you. * {BK1_19 ^paragraph 105} * Know you not that. or about life. Is it possible you can imagine never to arrive at the place towards which you are continually going? and yet there is no journey but hath its end. . and yet lived but a little. to have a sufficient length of life. Moreover. "And yet I will place you in such a condition as you shall have no reason to be displeased.* Live triumphing over as many ages as you will.Lucretius. Nec desiderium nostri nos afficit ullum. * * Death would seem much less to us. . Stansque jacentem.Lucretius. .. standing on your grave. a man may have lived long. "Wherever your life ends.. iii. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 115} Respice enim. whether you are living or dead: living. "Neither can it any way concern you. Si minus esse potest. sequentur. .. And. The utility of living consists not in the length of days.Lucretius. Ma e use of time while it is present with you. * . It depends upon your will.Lucretius. iii. quam nil ad nos anteacta vetustas Temporis aeternia fuerit. . iii. quam quod nihil esse videmus.. In vera nescis nullum fore morte alium te.if indeed there could be less in that which we see to be nothing.Lucretius. . it is all there. and not upon the number of days. * -     . "Death is less to be feared than nothing. when dead. does not all the world go the self-same way? Omnia te. dead because you are no more. * * Consider. Nec sibi enim quisquam tum se vitamque requirit.. than that was lapsed and gone before you came into the world.

a new. answer him. neque noctem aurora sequuta est. wives. you would externally curse me for having deprived you of it. no day has followed night. in truth. which made him. his father Saturn. the visits of astounded and afflicted friends. nor by that of any other. when he was acquainted with the conditions under which he was to enjoy it. you might not too greedily and indiscreetly see and embrace it: and that you might be so established in this moderation. 'Why then he did not die?' 'Because. by the god of time itself and its duration. in which there has not been heard sobs and sorrowing cries. It was I that taught Thales. peradventure thy age may not be accomplished." These are the good lessons our mother Nature teaches. whether we loo upon it in ourselves or in others... set round with burning tapers. that to live and to die were indifferent.* All things. that more terrify us than the thing itself. iii. Why dost thou complain of me and of destiny? Do we do thee any wrong? Is it for thee to govern us. that in war the image of death. a thousand animals. 'it is indifferent. If you had not death. notwithstanding.' Water. it would be an army of doctors and whining mil sops). nor have an antipathy for dying. appear less dreadful than at home in our own houses (for if it were not so. without comparison. and children. should. much more assurance in peasants and the meaner sort of people. a dar room. as neither to nauseate life. that seeing of what convenience it is. there should be.' said he. quite contrary way of living. Quae non audierit mistos vagitibus aegris Ploratus.Lucretius. * * No night has followed day. than every one of the rest: the last step is not the cause of lassitude: it does but confess it. are no more instruments of thy life than they are of thy death. mortis comites et funeris atri. iii. air. Do but seriously consider how much more insupportable and painful an immortal life would be to man than what I have already given him. the most eminent of your sages. earth. a thousand other creatures. the companions of death and funerals. the attendance of pale and blubbering servants. but have you ever found any who have been dissatisfied with dying? It must. Chiron refused to be immortal. to the end. or for us to govern thee? Though. Every day travels towards death: the last only arrives at it. life over. than in others of better quality. and the other parts of this creation of mine. "To what end should you endeavour to draw bac . then. I have tempered the one and the other betwixt pleasure and pain. yet thy life is: a man of low stature is as much a man as a giant: neither men nor their lives are measured by the ell. and that being still in all places the same. if there be no possibility to evade it? you have seen examples enough of those who have been well pleased to die. the cries of mothers. {BK1_19 ^paragraph 120} "Does not all the world dance the same brawl that you do? Is there anything that does not grow old. I have often considered with myself whence it should proceed. our beds environed with physicians and           . which I have decreed you shall once do. I believe. therefore. that it is those terrible ceremonies and preparations wherewith we set it out. very wisely. must follow thee. Why dost thou fear thy last day? it contributes no more to thy dissolution. as thereby delivered from heavy miseries. as well as you? A thousand men. needs be very foolish to condemn a thing you have neither experimented in your own person.Lucretius. and fire. die at the same moment that you die: Nam nox nulla diem. I have mixed a little bitterness with it.

and I ma e it my business to avoid. It has a very piercing impression upon me. died a day or two ago. A perpetual cough in another tic les my lungs and throat. but be forgot to say that mine. and are too willing to entertain it. and possessing all his senses with the flourishing age wherein I then was. and so 'tis with us. I am one of those who are most sensible of the power of imagination: every one is jostled by it. and to such a degree. who was troubled with wea lungs. OF THE FORCE OF IMAGINATION Fortis imaginatio generat casum.Axiom. as we are variously moved by imagination. Scholast. that happening one day at Toulouse to meet him at a rich old fellow's house. be amended. grows so warm with fancy. his habit of body might. when fast asleep. Some there are who through fear anticipate the hangman. I ta e possession of the disease I am concerned at. quasi transactis saepe omnibu' rebu' profundant Fluminis ingentes fluctus. they pour the billows of a potent stream and stain their garment. that being ta en away.Lucretius. {BK1_20 XX. to whom I less loo . by which means. might be made worse. Children are afraid even of those they are best acquainted with. and blush. or a poor chambermaid.. turn pale. that one thing which would be very conducive to it. but some are overthrown by it. {BK1_20 ^paragraph 5} Although it be no new thing to see horns grown in a night on the                       . was found star dead upon the scaffold. wanting force to resist it.divines. Simon Thomas was a great physician of his time: I remember. I could live by the sole help of healthful and jolly company: the very sight of another's pain materially pains me. and might brag that he was become a fool by too much wisdom. tremble. And boiling youth. Happy is the death that leaves us no leisure to prepare things for all this foppery." * say the schoolmen. at the same time. as even sometimes to expiring. and by fixing his eye upon the freshness of my complexion. that he could never after recover his judgment. as in a dream to satisfy amorous desires: Ut.. in sum. when disguised in a visor. and. without any manner of apprehension. whose eyes being unbound to have his pardon read to him. * * So that. and discoursing with his patient about the method of his cure. Gallus Vibius so long cudgelled his brains to find out the essence and motions of madness. the visor must be removed as well from things as from persons. being a-bed. was to give me such occasion to be pleased with his company. by the stro e of imagination. I do not at all wonder that fancy should give fevers and sometimes ill such as to allow it too much scope. as it were with all the matter acted duly out. he told him. we seem dead and buried already. nothing but ghostliness and horror round about us. We start. iv. and his imagination upon the sprightliness and vigour that glowed in my youth. peradventure. in the end. and I often usurp the sensations of another person. I more unwillingly visit the sic in whom by love and duty I am interested. that. and ta e it to myself. that I might come often to see him. vestemque cruentent. than those I care not for. and there was the man. feel our bodies agitated with its power to that degree. * A strong imagination begets the event itself. he himself went out of his wits. we shall find nothing underneath but the very same death that a mean servant.

. upon the hearing of any lamentable or doleful cries. and be so far out of himself. Pontanus and others report the li e metamorphosis to have happened in these latter days in Italy. to this day. ix. what befell Cippus. and all extraordinary effects of that nature. by experience. Vota puer solvit. in the case of a particular friend of mine. paid the gifts which. And. Met. in confirmation. and not married. wor ing and ma ing its chiefest impression upon vulgar and more easy souls. It is said. for I now. and having all the night dreamed that he had horns on his head. whom all the inhabitants of the place had nown to be a girl till two-and-twenty years of age. very full of beard. called Mary. St. I am not satisfied whether those pleasant ligatures * with which this age of ours is so occupied. Passion gave to the son of Croesus * the voice which nature had denied him. as a woman. i. City of God. one for whom I can be as responsible as for myself. Pliny pretends to have seen Lucius Cossitius. whose belief is so strangely imposed upon. It is no wonder if this sort of accident frequently happen. and a man that cannot                     . *(2) Iphis. is memorable. that visions. old. xiv. who from a woman was turned into a man upon her very wedding-day. saw a man the Bishop of Soissons had. called Germain. that by straining himself in a leap his male instruments came out. would presently fall into a swoon. who having one day been a very delighted spectator of a bull-fight. 'Tis very probable. that by it bodies will sometimes be removed from their places. that he had heard voices as it were afar off. till he voluntarily came to himself.Ovid. bawl in his ears. as to thin they see what they do not see. notwithstanding. enchantments. and to prove that this was no obstinate dissimulation in defiance of his sense of feeling. it was manifest. once for all. Myself passing by Vitry le Francois. are not mere voluntary impressions of apprehension and fear. pinch or burn him. at the time of my being there. that to the end it may not so often relapse into the same thought and violence of desire. * who. through the vehement desire of him and his mother. Francis to the force of imagination. to give these young wenches the things they long for. derive their credit principally from the power of imagination. that it was in vain to call.forehead of one that had none when he went to bed.. really cause them to grow there. {BK1_20 ^paragraph 10} Some attribute the scars of King Dagobert and of St. become a boy. and the girls of that place have. and Celsus tells us of a priest whose soul would be ravished into such an ecstasy that the body would. *(2) * Herodotus. as Mary Germain was. B . King of Italy. And Antiochus fell into a fever. that there is almost no other tal . that all the while he had neither pulse nor breathing. and then he would say. a song. remain without sense or respiration. and did feel when they pinched and burned him. Augustine ma es mention of another. too deeply imprinted in his soul. for fear of being turned into men. wherein they advise one another not to ta e too great strides. * Restitus. He was. by the force of imagination. he had promised. inflamed with the beauty of Stratonice. for if imagination have any power in such things. for a long time. it is so continually and vigorously bent upon this subject. He told us. it were better. did. Iphis. quae foemina voverat.

where. it was sewed to a ribbon to be tied under the chin. as they were called. when setting about the act (his thoughts being then disengaged and free. were supposed to have the magical effect of preventing a consummation of the marriage. and therefore privately told the count. being afterwards himself engaged upon the same account. that he had a counter-charm of enchantments that would secure him from this disgrace. After a man has once done a woman right. there is no means for a man to defend himself from such a surprise. and with whom I was very intimate. a foppery cousin-german to this of which I am spea ing. and one. being applied to the suture. * Les nouements d' aiguillettes. especially when passed through the wedding-ring. the restraint upon his faculties grew less. about me a certain flat plate of gold. now. the scurvy remembrance of his disaster running in his mind and tyrannising over him. and as little of being enchanted. being grown old. Neither is this disaster to be feared. the horror of the former story on a sudden so strangely possessed his imagination. He found some remedy. he was subject to relapse into the same misfortune. by chance. and especially. for this fancy in another fancy. as shall put him altogether out of sorts. and others. unless upon the account of some excusable wea ness. being married to a fair lady. some such misbehaviour was expected from him. find themselves less impotent by being less able. or sil . at a wedding. on a strip of leather. who found an advantage in being assured by a friend of his. until they were untied. who lived in my house. Jaques Pelletier. if need were. I have nown some. however. For I would do him the office of a friend. Which fear she communicated to me. and from that time forward. at such times as he was in no such apprehension. especially some one being in the house. would not spare a miracle it was in my power to do. And afterwards. {BK1_20 ^paragraph 15} A count of a very great family. who had the ordering of the solemnity. supposed good against sunstro e or pains in the head. I bade her rely upon me: I had. he is never after in danger of misbehaving himself with that person. where the opportunity is of an unforeseen and pressing nature. nots tied by some one. who. no doubt. and his body in its true and natural estate) he was at leisure to cause the part to be handled and communicated to the nowledge of the other party. would be glad to do him such a courtesy: but let him boldly go to bed. had presented this to me for a singular rarity. purposely to abate the ardour of the fury. this subjection of his. The story itself is not much amiss. by coming half sated elsewhere. all his friends were in very great fear. and which. that it might the better remain firm. in some sort. who had formerly been courted by one who was at the wedding. I had a fancy to ma e some use of this nac . and nowing that.possibly fall under any manner of suspicion of insufficiency. cotton. and in whose house it was ept. whereon were graven some celestial figures. who having heard a companion of his ma e a relation of an unusual frigidity that surprised him at a very unseasonable time. appeased. he was totally freed from that vexatious infirmity. by which means. and. in those cases. that he might possibly run the same fortune other bridegrooms had sometimes done. suspecting his rival would offer foul play by these sorceries. that he ran the same fortune the other had done. provided he would engage to                               . but especially an old lady his inswoman. who. who have secured themselves from this mischance. by himself fran ly confessing and declaring beforehand to the party with whom he was to have to do. the agitation of his soul was. but in adventures where the soul is over-extended with desire or respect. and therefore you shall have it.

he should tie the ribbon I put into his hand about his middle. and also.me. Whereupon. coy. as are apt to remain and continue with him upon following occasions. let him confidently return to his business. and withal not forget to spread my gown upon the bed. at which he was so enraged. the figures in such a posture. to eep it to himself. and abominate all manner of tric ery. * having married Laodice. for I am an enemy to all subtle and counterfeit actions. so that it might be sure to cover them both. gave me the sign. must put off her modesty with her petticoat.throw it over his own. when a man perceives himself full of agitation and trembling. to give me such a sign. made his vows to Venus. Amasis. proceed from some abstruse science: their very inanity gives them weight and reverence. and leave the rest to me. and only. ought never to compel or so much as to offer at the feat. and his mind so prepossessed with the eternal tattle of this business. that when he came to't. Married people. he found himself divinely restored the very first night after his oblations and sacrifices. suspecting her to be a witch. mixed with a little curiosity. which was. and whoever the imagination has once put this tric upon. accordingly. Now he had had his ears so battered. at the time appointed. he did really find himself tied with the trouble of his imagination. and as often do such and such actions. having all their time before them. for though the action may not be vicious in itself. As 'tis usual in things that consist in fancy.we were of much about the same height. and could by no means enjoy her. a very beautiful Gree virgin. exactly upon his reins. as it indles our desire. he enters into such fever and despite at the accident. * Herodotus. that my figures approved themselves more venerian than solar. and be sure to place the medal that was fastened to it. certain it is. at this first account a man gives of himself. which extinguishes our vigour. of necessity. And. I whispered him in the ear. readily loses the power of performance. more active than prohibitive. though noted for his abilities elsewhere. that he threatened to ill her. which being done. should three times repeat such and such words." The soul of the assailant being disturbed with many several alarms. its mode is vicious. upon his honour. he is much more timorous of miscarrying). that made me do a thing so contrary to my nature. "That the woman who goes to bed to a man. that he should rise. These ape's tric s are the main of the effect. and after a jesting manner pull my nightgown from my shoulders. she put him upon devotion. and confounded with the shame of it (and she never does it but at the first acquaintance. accordingly. ii. when they came to bring him his caudle. by reason men are then more ardent and eager. and to await another opportunity at more private and more                   . having made an ill beginning. under pretense of putting us out of the room. and. and having. and put it on again with the same. and there eep it till he had performed what I had appointed him to do. and having the last of the three times so well girt and fast tied the ribbon that it could neither untie nor slip from its place. and angry countenance. King of Egypt. that when we were all gone out of the chamber he should withdraw to ma e water. found himself quite another man with his wife. our fancy being so far seduced as to believe that such strange means must. 'Twas a sudden whimsey. and to an advantage. if matters had not gone well with him. Now women are to blame to entertain us with that disdainful. though it be for sport. which made the daughter-in-law of Pythagoras say. if they do not find themselves quite ready: and it is less unseemly to fail of handselling the nuptial sheets. that at every of the three times.

and so unseasonably disobedient when we stand most in need of it: so imperiously contesting in authority with the will. in whose behalf we prefer this accusation. Augustine urges. when we do not require it.composed leisure. peradventure. but even of our nowledge also? We do not command our hairs to stand on end. need ta e no other care but only to counterplot their fantasies. the sight of a pleasing object imperceptibly diffusing a flame through all our parts. a man. animate the lungs. Is there nothing but these veins and muscles that swell and flag without the consent. with their common offense. nevertheless. and with so much haughty obstinacy denying all solicitation. out of pure envy at the importance and pleasure especial to his employment. by malevolently charging him alone. when it thin s fit. with how much greater probability may we reproach herself with mutiny and sedition. both of hand and mind. bring the rest of his fellow-members into suspicion of complotting this mischief against him. not only of the will. Vives. They have every one of them passions of their own. But for our will. stupefy and benumb them. of one that could brea wind in tune. without our nowledge. though his rebellion is so universally complained of. and that does not often exercise its function in defiance of her command. Till possession be ta en. that I myself new one so rude and ungoverned. the tongue will be interdict. armed the whole world against him. yet further fortifies with another example in his time. and 'tis li e will do so till he die of it. and that the emperor. no more nor less than the other appetite we were spea ing of. The indocile liberty of this member is very remar able. And I could heartily wish that I only new by reading how often a man's belly. * of having seen a man who could command his rear to discharge as often together as he pleased. without and beyond our concurrence. for all that. for is anything commonly more tumultuary or indiscreet? To which let me add. brings him to the very door of an exceeding painful death. for her irregularity and disobedience? Does she always will what we                                       . as well as those which are destined to purge the reins. had at the same time given us power to do it. nor our s in to shiver either with fear or desire. his commentator. for having misbehaved himself and been baffled at the first assault. that nows himself subject to this infirmity. feed me to plead his cause. St. by the denial of one single puff. to force an absolute conquest over his own mutinous and indisposed faculties. and that proof is thence deduced to condemn him. When we have nothing to eat. and that which. with a feverish motion. that rouse and awa en. who gave liberty to let fly in all places. the hands often convey themselves to parts to which we do not direct them. forbear to stir up the parts that are subject to it. than to ma e himself perpetually miserable. should leisurely and by degrees ma e several little trials and light offers. and betray our most private secrets to the bystanders. the appetite does not. I should. without our leave or consent. and the voice congealed. and would willingly forbid it. And yet. as unseasonably leaves us. to justify the prerogative of the will. The vessels that serve to discharge the belly have their own proper dilatations and compressions. but these cases do not suppose any more pure obedience in that part. whether there is any one part of our bodies that does not often refuse to perform its office at the precept of the will. pulse. and in li e manner. The same cause that animates this member does also. as for forty years together made his master vent with one continued and unintermitted outbursting. without obstinately attempting. by confederacy. and heart. Such as now their members to be naturally obedient. at once. How often do the involuntary motions of the countenance discover our inward thoughts. when we now not how to help it. if he had. so importunately unruly in its tumidity and impatience. For let any one consider. and to have.

a nation not much addicted to vanity and lying. and himself an immortal demon. And 'tis for this reason you may see why men in such cases require a mind prepared for the thing that is to be done. he found the same operation and effect that those do who have ta en one. it is sometimes inopportunely to invite. which the woman no sooner saw. the author of the sole immortal wor of mortals. caused her to vomit. supposing it to be only a conceit ta en at some crust of bread that had hurt her as it went down. who having treated a large company at his house. and none of the usual forms. and that to our manifest prejudice? Does she suffer herself. has carried with him into Spain. I should move. A woman fancying she had swallowed a pin in a piece of bread. it might be considered. his cause being inseparably and indistinctly conjoined with an accessory. the desire of immortality. and the patient accommodated as if he had really received a clyster. and finding these would do no good. their patients' credulity with so many false promises of cure. protesting against the proceedings of the advocates and judges. threw a croo ed pin into the basin. unseen. and much afflicted with the stone. he would usually give him two or three more doses. xiv. he lay down. more than any of the rest. my client. in the meantime. indeed. the syringe advanced. and if at any time the physician did not find the operation sufficient. was fain to return to the old way. {BK1_20 ^paragraph 20} * City of God. of a merchant he had long nown at Toulouse. yet he only is called in question. the scrofula. but never to refuse. by such an effect of imagination may have had the good luc to leave behind him here. moreover. beforehand. and invite. seeing no outward tumour nor alteration. but an ingenious fellow that was brought to her. and love. that the effect of imagination may supply the imposture of their decoctions? They now very well that a great master of their trade has given it under his hand. Why do the physicians possess. that to save charges (for he paid as if he had really ta en them) this sic man's wife. but believing she had cast it up. three or four days after bragged in jest (for there was no such                                 . the effect discovered the cheat. of which he caused several sorts to be prescribed him by the physicians. after which. and that by arguments and accusations which cannot be charged upon the other. where she thought she felt it stic . injection alone excepted. as feeling if it were not too hot. a blunt Swiss. having sometimes made trial of warm water only. Nature will. All which conceits come now into my head by the remembrance of a story that was told me by a domestic apothecary of my father's. in the behalf of the gentleman. to be governed and directed by the results of our reason? To conclude. and. perhaps. being omitted. proceed after her own way. had often occasion to ta e clysters. a divine wor . cried and lamented as though she had an intolerable pain in her throat. whose business. and therefore is the malice and injustice of his accusers most manifestly apparent.would have her to do? Does she not often will what we forbid her to will. And the fellow swore. who had done but well had she endowed this member with some particular privilege. and the li e. after a tacit and quiet manner. the apothecary being gone. that in this fact. that he has nown some with whom the very sight of physic would wor . according to Socrates. I myself new a gentleman. who being a valetudinary. and all ceremonies performed. indeed. she presently found herself eased of her pain. according to the accidents of his disease: which. But be it how it will. being brought him. which his companion who has come after. Some one. if not to the end. after the same manner.

*(2) * When we loo at people with sore eyes. and found themselves upon the proofs of reason. iii. that being animated and enraged against any one. who die of grief for the loss of their masters. Even brute beasts are subject to the force of imagination as well as we. and sore eyes. {BK1_20 ^paragraph 30} It is the same with beasts. being vehemently agitated. as we see in the plague. is bewitching my tender lambs. laid a wager that he would bring her down with the sole power of his sight. But we experimentally see that women impart the mar s of their fancy to the children they carry in the womb. our own eyes become sore. or drawn by some attractive power of the cat.Ovid. but 'tis quite another thing when the imagination wor s not only upon one's own particular body. who had been at the feast. but upon that of others also. which infers. heard the story of the falconer. The ancients had an opinion of certain women of Scythia. so horses will ic and whinny in their sleep. the Emperor and King of Bohemia. let some other do it for me. the bird at last let herself fall dead into the cat's claws. that he had made them eat of a ba ed cat. that run through whole families and citiesDum spectant oculi laesos.Virgil. The discourses are my own. either dazzled by the force of its own imagination. not of experience. laeduntur et ipsi. to believe that there are plenty of them: if I do not apply them well. the smallpox. And the eyes of witches are said to be assailant and hurtful: Nescio quis teneros oculus mihi fascinat agnos. Amor. a cat seen watching a bird upon the top of a tree: these. And. to which every one has liberty to add his own examples. that falling into a violent vomiting and fever.. let him not forbear. also. John the Baptist that hung within the curtains of her bed. in the subject of which I                             . and the hares and partridges that the snow turns white upon the mountains. Multaque corporibus transitione nocent * {BK1_20 ^paragraph 25} -so the imagination. mutually fixing their eyes one upon another.thing). Such as are addicted to the pleasures of the field have. Eclog. and did so. And as an infected body communicates its malady to those that approach or live near it. I ma e no question. a girl from about Pisa. for the tales I borrow I charge upon the consciences of those from whom I have them. There was at my house. Now all this may be attributed to the close affinity and relation betwixt the soul and the body intercommunicating their fortunes. De Rem. I now not whose. witness her that was brought to bed of a Moor. who having earnestly fixed his eyes upon a ite in the air. a little while ago. they illed him only with their loo s. *(2) Some eye. witness dogs. there was no possible means to save her. as it was said. the number and varieties of accidents considered. that their eyes have in them some ejaculative virtue. too such a horror. darts out infection capable of offending the foreign object. for some time. at which a young gentlewoman. Tortoises and ostriches hatch their eggs with only loo ing on them. whom her mother said to be so conceived by reason of a picture of St. all over rough and covered with hair. Many things are hurtful to our bodies by this sort of transition. and there was presented to Charles. and bar and tremble and start in their sleep. and who has none. Magicians are no very good authority with me. witness Jacob's sheep.

how fabulous soever. in superstitious religion. provided they are possible. There is a just liberty allowed in the schools. for whose intentions they would become absolute caution. or a philosopher. at Rome or Paris. mine. of supposing similitudes. as well in shadow as in substance. For my part. whether they have really happened or no. and there is no man. I cannot say. whose trade it was to sell the necessaries for funeral ceremonies. and have accommodated my subject to my strength: should I ta e one to be my guide. I have forbidden myself to dare to alter even the most light and indifferent circumstances: my conscience does not falsify one tittle. what my ignorance may do. I have neither composition nor explanation worth anything. or perseverance: that there is nothing so contrary to my style as a continued narrative. peradventure I should not be able to eep pace with him. might deliver judgments. and for that reason it is. I would not give myself the trouble. and as to that matter. I thin it less hazardous to write of things past. and according to reason. THAT THE PROFIT OF ONE MAN IS THE DAMAGE OF ANOTHER DEMADES the Athenian condemned one of his city. whether an old story be so or no. I so often interrupt. is his own wor . I do not. and ma e my advantage of it. And this it is that ma es me sometimes doubt in my own mind. are fit to write history: for how can they sta e their reputation upon a popular faith? how be responsible for the opinions of men they do not now? and with what assurance deliver their conjectures for current pay? Of actions performed before their own eyes. by how much the writer is only to give an account of things every one nows he must of necessity borrow upon trust. to give an account of things that have happened. sworn enemy as I am to obligation. which upon better thoughts. should be to deliver of what may happen. and have a clearer insight into them by reason of the free access fortune has given me to the heads of various factions. to John or Peter. Plutarch would tell us. and cut myself short in my writing for want of breath. so familiarly nown to them. I am solicited to write the affairs of my own time. ma e any use of that privilege. when they have none at hand. if I could arrive unto it. by some who fancy I loo upon them with an eye less blinded with passion than another. and am ignorant. There are authors whose only end and design it is. that I have underta en to say only what I can say. I cull out the most rare and memorable to fit my own turn. and are presented with a luster that will light us the way to virtue. serve as well as the true. our manners and notions. which serves me to good use. however. or said. would be illegitimate and punishable. read. of what he has delivered to us. I see. and such men of exact and tender prudence and conscience. and that that profit could not accrue to him but by the death of a great number of people. whether a divine. of what I have heard. of the phrases and even the very words proper to express the most common things. done. assiduity. as in a medicinal drug. that to purchase the glory of Sallust. In the examples which I here bring in. 'tis still within the verge of human capacity. and among the various readings thereof in history. surpass all historical authority. A judgment that                             . and in the freedom of my liberty. wherein several persons were actors. beyond a child. {BK1_21 XXI. It is not of so dangerous consequence. upon pretence that he demanded unreasonable profit. than present. that it is the wor of others: that his examples are all and everywhere exactly true: that they are useful to posterity. they would be unwilling to give evidence upon oath before a judge. but they do not consider. testimonies and instances.treat.

mice. forcing and violating the rules of nature: Usus efficacissimus rerum omnium magister. says the ancient Gree comic writer. and bats. or suffer themselves to be burned up by the sun on the mountains. that. We see her. nourishment. slily and unperceived. A physician ta es no pleasure in the health even of his friends. having accustomed herself to play with and carry a young calf in her arms. Upon which consideration it comes into my head. quod fuit ante. In that new world of the Indies. ne ingemiscunt quidem. * * For. as the story of that ing. Quaes. *(2) The power of custom is very great: huntsmen will lie out all night in the snow. by the suits and contentions of men. and the physicians. they did grasshoppers. who so often submit the reasons of their art to her authority. nay. whatever from its own confines passes changed.Cicero. and so of the rest. by little and little. and officers of justice. And.. For. and dish up with several sauces..Pliny.Lucretius. the husbandman by the dearness of grain. nor a soldier in the peace of his country. all which they coo . lizards. even the honour and office of divines are derived from our death and vices.             . and increase of everything is the dissolution and corruption of another: Nam quodcumque suis mutatum finibus exit. who by custom brought his stomach to that pass. and in a time of scarcity of such delicacies. Hist. against which we have no more the courage or the power so much as to lift up our eyes. Tusc. obtained this by custom. this is at once the death of that which before it was. there were found great nations. never utter a groan. in truth. OF CUSTOM. and the flesh we eat. with the benefit of time. a toad was sold for six crowns. fixed and established it. she was still able to bear it. xxvi. as also. slips in the foot of her authority. Continuo hoc mors est illius. custom is a violent and treacherous schoolmistress. *(2) * Custom is the best master of all things. and he will find his private wishes spring and his secret hopes grow up at another's expense. that Nature does not in this swerve from her general polity.. Nat. at every turn. lawyers. and daily continuing to do so as it grew up. * I refer to her Plato's cave in his Republic. that the birth. which is yet worse. forasmuch as no profit whatever can possibly be made but at the expense of another. but having by this gentle and humble beginning. ii. Consuetudinis magna vis est: pernoctant venatores in nive: in montibus uri se patiuntur: pugiles caestibus contusi. as to live by poison. were venomous and mortal. who were of the same diet. and fed them for their tables. {BK1_22 XXII. for physicians hold. and the maid that Albertus reports to have lived upon spiders. who first invented the story of a countrywoman who. AND THAT WE SHOULD NOT EASILY CHANGE A LAW RECEIVED HE seems to have had a right and true apprehension of the power of custom. the architect by the ruin of buildings. ii. when grown to be a great ox. to whom our diet.. She. and that by the same rule he should condemn all gain of what ind soever. she then unmas s a furious and tyrannic countenance. There were also others found.appears to be ill grounded. however hurt by the caestus. The merchant only thrives by the debauchery of youth. made provision of them. let every one but dive into his own bosom.. boxers. and in very differing climates.

when they see him cheat and overreach his playfellow by some malicious treachery and deceit. who loo upon it as a notable mar of a martial spirit. and a great sign of wit. And it is a very dangerous mista e to excuse these vile inclinations upon the tenderness of their age. that from having been brought up in my childhood to a plain and straightforward way of dealing. cannot fail of creating a marvellous harmony. I now very well. and the natural deformity of those vices ought so to be represented to them. should yet have the power to unite and establish the effect of its impressions upon our senses. and such wise fathers there are in the world. and that our principal education depends upon the nurse. being universally. it is nature that spea s. notwithstanding long intermissions and intervals. should be hateful to them. and at first seemed insupportable to me. but that the hearing sense of all creatures here below. how great soever. where every morning and evening a very great bell rings out the Ave Maria: the noise sha es my very tower. and grow to prodigious bul . the changes and cadences of which cause the revolutions and dances of the stars. Yet these are the true seeds and roots of cruelty. or see him domineer over a poor peasant. but especially so to abominate them in their hearts. and what philosophers believe of the music of the spheres. and stupefied with the continual noise. and the triviality of the subject: first. We need not go to what is reported of the people about the cataracts of the Nile. as it is more wea and young. or a lac ey. I myself lie at home in a tower." replied Plato. "Thou reprovest me. that the bodies of those circles being solid and smooth. that dares not reply. they would not do it if it were for money? Children should carefully be instructed to abhor vices for their own contexture. li e that of the Egyptians. and inward thoughts more undisguised. whose declaration is then more sincere. but I am so used to it." "Custom. {BK1_22 ^paragraph 5} Plato reprehending a boy for playing at nuts. for what concerns myself. and afterwards shoot up vigorously. and often without awa ing at it. that custom. 'tis only pleasing to the bystanders. with what mas soever they may be disguised. as is manifest in such as live near unto steeples and the frequent noise of the bells. nor turn again. that the very thought. My perfumed doublet gratifies my own smelling at first. "is no little thing. deafened. when they hear a son miscall. pewterers. and coming to touch and rub upon one another. indeed. but after I have worn it three days together. "for a very little thing. millers. did it stri e their ears with the same violence that it does ours. that I hear it without any manner of offense. tyranny. cultivated by custom. and treason. cannot. forgemen. and from having had an aversion to all manner of juggling and foul play in my childish sports and recreations (and." I find that our greatest vices derive their first propensity from our most tender infancy. how much custom stupefies our senses. and armourers could never be able to live in the perpetual noise of their own trades. perceive it. Mothers are mightily pleased to see a child writhe off the nec of a chic en. secondly." says the boy. than as they do. This is yet more strange. that they may not only avoid them in their actions.These strange examples will not appear so strange if we consider what we have ordinary experience of. Smiths. it is to                               . but I rather hold it more just to conclude thus: why should he not cozen in crowns since he does it in pins. they bud and put out there. the deformity of cozenage does not consist nor depend upon the difference betwixt crowns and pins. or to please itself with hurting a dog or a cat. who say they only play for pins.

consequently. a little fellow. the greatest ladies of his court put out their hands to receive it. handled a halberd with the mere motions of his nec and shoulders for want of hands. that truly these have half forgotten their natural office. and caught them again. sews. but are to be judged in them as their most serious actions).for he gains his living by showing these featshe too in his foot. I shuffle and cut and ma e as much clatter with the cards. for round sums. but. There is a place. neither is there any I have more respect to. and without study or endeavour. for this being beyond the reach of human reason. I have not an extreme aversion for deceit. threads a needle. being yet a boy.. our reason does not ground and bac up. plays at cards and dice. There are people.be noted. and. and all this with as much dexterity as any other could do who had more. with which we see so many great nations. A French gentleman was always wont to blow his nose with his fingers (a thing very much against our fashion). my own eyes are sufficient to loo to my fingers. to see testimony of the truth from minds prepossessed with custom. who has so well taught his feet to perform the services his hands should have done him. that does not meet with some example of public practice. and. whenever the ing spits.. that is. At all times. as when I play in good earnest with others. amongst whom it is the fashion to turn their bac s upon him they salute. 'tis indifferent to me. that the plays of children are not performed in play. Let us here steal room to insert a story. the fellow calls them his hands. tossed them into air. where she meets with less resistance. ab animis consuetudine imbutis quaerere testimonium veritatis? * * Is it not a shame for a natural philosopher. I have seen another who.Cicero. he as ed me. of other opinions. What has she not the power to impose upon our judgements and beliefs? Is there any so fantastic opinion (omitting the gross impostures of religions. born without arms. at my own house. limbs to assist him. I saw the other day. that no so absurd or ridiculous fancy can enter into human imagination. are there any so extravagant. De Nat. The money I gave him. and that. with an extraordinary illumination from above). if I may so say. and eep as strict account for farthings. and crac ed a whip as well as any coachman in France. when winning or losing against my wife and daughter. so strangely besotted. and in all places. But the effects of custom are much more manifest in the strange impressions she imprints in our minds. id est speculatorem venatoremque naturae.                               . where. and so many understanding men. for an observer and hunter of nature. as we do in our hand. which was more. a native of Nantes. and another nation. Deor. I am not so narrowly watched by any other. {BK1_22 ^paragraph 10} I do believe. i. darted a dagger. writes. any error is more excusable in such as are not endued. puts off his hat. which. and carry it all day about in our poc ets. and never loo upon the man they intend to honour. afterwards to lap it carefully up. with them he cuts anything. charges and discharges a pistol. and he justifying himself for so doing. indeed. what privilege this filthy excrement had. as it were for double pistoles. and more proper. there is no game so small wherein from my own bosom naturally. flourished a two-handed sword. and he was a man famous for pleasant repartees. through the divine bounty. and. that she has not planted and established for laws in those parts of the world upon which she has been pleased to exercise her power? And therefore that ancient exclamation was exceeding just: Non pudet physicum. that we must carry about us a fine hand erchief to receive it. where the most eminent persons about him stoop to ta e up his ordure in a linen cloth. combs his head.

where. where husbands may sell their wives in case of sterility. and others not: where the condition women is loo ed upon with such contempt. and the married women carefully cover and conceal them. men could settle themselves to reflect upon. and afterwards pound them to a pulp. of what form soever they are. the same with a labourer. and rightly to confer them with. and shoot their arrows with the most mortal aim. the greater is her honour. but.he said. but then. where chastity. when we hear it reported of another country. and being got with child. but also weighty gimmals of gold thrust through their paps and buttoc s. in another place. And. but in marriage. may lawfully ta e physic. in the honours of command. and not only share in the dangers of battle. and that it is these souls. nephews only. they wipe their fingers upon their thighs. that they ill all the native females. where they believe the souls of the blessed live in all manner of liberty. it belongs to the lord of the place to perform that office. There are places where brothels of young men are ept for the pleasure of women. in delightful fields. may marry again. if after having travelled over those remote examples. that slovenly action of his was at last grown familiar to me. all of the same condition. where. where the most coveted sepulture is to be eaten with dogs. infinite in matter. is of no esteem. according to our ignorance of nature. infinite in diversity. There are peoples. whose husbands come to violent ends. where they fight in the water. But I return to my subject. for the regulation of community in goods and estates. and brothers and nephews only inherit. In one and the same nation. in the sight of every one. blinds the eye of our judgment. and the greater number of them there is. and the opinion of her ability and strength: if an officer marry. 'tis the same. the virgins discover those parts that modesty should persuade them to hide. than to see it thrown away. furnished with all sorts of delicacies. observed in the country. repeating the words we utter. which we call Echo. Barbarians are no more a wonder to us. than we are to them. and elsewhere. lie with the bride before him. and yet a severe loyalty during marriage is afterwards strictly enjoined. lips. and feast at the decease of old men. nor with any more reason. where the wives go to war as well as the husbands. Others. and buy wives of their neighbours to supply their use. men and their wives together: where women. for what cause soever. has some relation. which they mix with their wine. his wife and children excepted. who are invited to the wedding. their own. but wives cannot part from their husbands. swimming. and elsewhere by birds. according to the necessity of every one: where they lament the death of children. moreover. to destroy their fruit. or one of mean condition. in eating. Human reason is a tincture almost equally infused into all our opinions and manners. which nevertheless we ma e a face at. if a tradesman marry. where they lie ten or twelve in a bed. this custom. in another place. chee s. To which. as every one would confess. saving in the succession of the prince: where. I found that what he said was not altogether without reason. for unmarried women may prostitute themselves to as many as they please. and drin it. as we did all other evacuations. they lift up                     . no one spea s to the ing but through a tube. and the soles of their feet: where children are excluded. certain sovereign magistrates have committed to them the universal charge and overseeing of the agriculture. Miracles appear to be so. where they boil the bodies of their dead. and on their toes. and not according to the essence of nature: the continually being accustomed to anything. where. for a sign of subjection. where they wear rings not only through their noses. and by being frequently in his company. could not but be much more nauseous and offensive. genitories. and distribution of the fruits. where husbands may repudiate their wives without showing any cause.

according to the seeming necessity of affairs. a thief being there punished double what they are in other places: where they crac lice with their teeth li e mon eys. li e gods: where. his vassals. and women on their shoulders. some let their hair grow long before. without any consideration of nearness of blood. the sun. have. moreover. without scandal: where at their solemn feasts they interchangeably lend their children to one another. where men and women are both circumcised and also baptized. where both flesh and fish is eaten raw. in another place. and the better to receive their oracles. not only to the fourth. the hunter of a lion or a fox. and if a louse bite them. and the right of the ingdom devolves to the third in succession. is made noble: where they live in that rare and unsociable opinion of the mortality of the soul. where the new year's gift the ing sends every year to the princes. every one for themselves. where. and offer incense to the men they would honour. to be better acquainted with their demons. retires from his administration (which often falls out). all the old fire is put out. furnished in the richest manner. and the earth are the principal deities. where the greatest oath they ta e is. and the men squatting: where they send their blood in to en of friendship. in which place. In one                                                         . and the neighbouring people are bound to fetch the new. and then pointing it up towards heaven: where men carry burdens upon their heads. to beta e himself wholly to devotion. where the soldier. the fisher of some fish. where they vary the form of government. and husbands their wives. and dare not marry. to swear by the name of some dead person of reputation. where the women are delivered without pain or fear: where the women wear copper leggings upon both legs. it is accounted mortal to give the child suc the first day after it is born: where the correction of the male children is peculiarly designed to the fathers. the moon. till first they have made their ing a tender of their virginity. windows. upon pain of high treason. where every one ma es to himself a deity of what he li es best. pare those of the right hand only. and sometimes transferring it into the hands of the commonalty. are bound in magnanimity to bite them again. to their guests to hire: where a man may get his own mother with child and fathers ma e use of their own daughters or sons. and some behind. has been so fortunate as to present seven of the enemies' heads to the ing. to touch the earth. indred are not permitted to marry: where the children are four years at nurse. or chests to loc . who ta e charge of the sacred women. idols of every human action or passion. is fire. and the form of ta ing an oath is. where the priests put out their own eyes. which being brought. loo ing up to heaven. and in the neighbouring provinces.their shoulders. depose the ing when they thin good. the punishment being to hang them by the heels in the smo e: where they circumcise the women: where they eat all sorts of herbs. but in any other remote degree. and abhor to see them illed with one's nails: where in all their lives they neither cut their hair nor pare their nails. where the women ma e water standing. that they may not be loved. and often twelve. in which place. letting the left grow for ornament and bravery: where they suffer the hair on the right side to grow as long as it will. without other scruple than of the badness of the smell: where all things are open. and to the mothers of the girls. if he please to accept it: where the ordinary way of salutation is by putting a finger down to the earth. and hang down their heads. also. substituting certain elders to govern in his stead. without doors. when the ing. where they put off their shoes when they enter the ing's palace. their lips and noses cut off. and shave the other. where the eunuchs. trun s. laying their hand upon his tomb. his next successor is obliged to do the same. who in one or several engagements.the finest houses. shaving close the rest: where parents let out their children. and.

in my opinion. some to be preserved and carefully brought up. for he himself. as they have lain with several men. moreover. cannot. * that women tear their hair. they prayed the gods to engage him in some ill custom. that whatever is off the hinges of custom. the women ta e it for a mar of honour to have as many gay fringed tassels at the bottom of their garment. in another. or so to come to ourselves. and the common fancies that we find in repute everywhere about us. very fruitful in all manner of provisions. To say the truth. instruct the most ignorant vulgar. But the principal effect of its power is. by reason that we suc it in with our mil . and empress of the world. how unreasonably for the most                           . and water. bite their nails." says he. whilst yet in their mothers' wombs. and eats coals and earth. without offence. in seven hundred years.place. 'tis reputed a pious office for a man to ill his father at a certain age. and. as to consider of and to weigh the things it enjoins. it was never nown that ever maid or wife committed any act to the prejudice of her honour? To conclude. "And this. and ma e them perfect in things which all the philosophy in the world could never beat into the heads of the wisest men? For we now entire nations. when those of Crete would curse any one. cresses. more by custom than nature. that the meanest citizen would not have deigned to stoop to ta e up a purse of crowns. Did not custom. it seems as if we were born upon condition to follow on this trac . And we now regions. that being the utmost limit of the hereditary outrage the sons used to practice upon the fathers in their family. and that the face of the world presents itself in this posture to our first sight. that it is hardly in us to disengage ourselves from its gripe. but entertained with the greatest triumph. or may not do. elsewhere. whom the son dragged and hauled along the streets. and that they are most pleased with. In times past." And the father. there is nothing. wor that miracle in Chios that. proceed from custom. * Ethics. shall beat me. {BK1_22 ^paragraph 15} The laws of conscience. so to seize and ensnare us. depart from them. Elsewhere the old husbands lend their wives to young men. which we pretend to be derived from nature. every one. and reproved for so doing. appear to be the most universal and genuine: from whence it comes to pass. made answer. where riches were in such contempt. where death was not only despised. notwithstanding. in li e manner his father had beaten his grandfather. that she does not. says Aristotle. has not custom made a republic of women separately by themselves? has it not put arms into their hands. that it was the custom of their family: that. by her own precept. vii. having an inward veneration for the opinions and manners approved and received among his own people. that men abuse themselves with one another. the most ordinary diet. that Pindar calls her the queen. without changing countenance. without very great reluctance. nor apply himself to them without applause. his grandfather his great-grandfather. he said. where children of seven years old suffered themselves to be whipped to death. therefore. Moreover. He that was seen to beat his father. pointing to his son. It is as much by custom as infirmity. commanded him to stop at a certain door. where. and. "when he comes to my age. and in another place they are in common. and others to be abandoned or made away. had dragged his father no farther. is believed to be also off the hinges of reason. is only bread. in one place particularly. with very good reason it is. men feed upon human flesh. and infused into our minds with the seed of our fathers. the fathers dispose of their children. and made them raise armies and fight battles? And does she not.

would immediately consider how it does any way touch his own private concern. to establish it only by force of law and example. they conceived a still greater horror at the notion. and to set it off in its true value. infused this wholesome opinion and belief into the tender brains of children. being unable to ta e into hatred subjection itself. as directed to the common sort.part. God nows. and. so admirable. by degrees. and what opportunity soever fortune presents them with to change. people do not regard with less admiration. their sisters' desire. is as hard as 'tis easy to do so according to custom. than the Scythians after Thessaly. according to nature. a great and shining virtue. the very fables of Thyestes. relate horrible stories of them. as men commonly do. and Macareus. but inquiring still farther into its origin. but men receive the precepts and admonitions of truth. and precepts. *(2) There is nothing. Such people as have been bred up to liberty. having with the harmony of their song. of eating the dead bodies of their fathers (for that was their use. when with the greatest difficulties they have disengaged themselves from one master. a recipe. to burn the bodies of their fathers. as a severe lash to the ordinary stupidity of his own judgment. that the public opinion condemns them. at first. and all other sorts of writers. and that was received with absolute authority for a great many leagues round about us. for use veils from us the true aspect of things. believing they could not give them a better. that every one is content with the place where he is planted by nature. quod non minuant mirarier omnes Paullatim. they made answer. nor more noble sepulture. Ta ing upon me once to justify something in use among us. loo upon all other form of government as monstrous and contrary to nature. than to bury them in their own bodies). but to treat of it. to create another. and subject to no other dominion but the authority of their own will. If. 'Tis by the mediation of custom. even then. Chastity is. so grant. which. they presently run. I found the foundation so wea . and never to themselves. namely. nec tam mirabile quidquam Principio. as we who study ourselves. and the Highlanders of Scotland no more pant after Touraine. but having also tried to persuade the Indians to leave their custom. Nil adeo magnum. and of which the utility is sufficiently nown. that was troublesome and grievous to them. nor brothers. * Every one does the same. have learned to do. every one who hears a good sentence. Those who are inured to monarchy do the same. But let us return to the empire of custom. Oedipus. with the same difficulties. in truth. after the Gree manner. and instead of applying them to their own manners. that I who made it my business to confirm others. of the finest shape and fashion. that nothing in the world should hire them to do it. The fundamental and universal reasons are                       . 'Tis by this receipt that Plato * underta es to cure the unnatural and preposterous loves of his time. was very near being dissatisfied myself. every one would find that it was not so much a good saying. Darius as ing certain Gree s what they would ta e to assume the custom of the Indians. as one which he esteems of sovereign virtue. laws. ii. and not content. *(2) {BK1_22 ^paragraph 20} * Herodotus. do only very ignorantly and unprofitably commit them to memory.Lucretius. iii. by virtue of which the most beautiful daughters no more allure their father's lust.. that the poets.

do yet commit a greater error. these the action. these the virtue. those the long robe. donations. the nobles as rigorously condemning a lie ta en. But the mas ta en off. who counselled his ing to ma e the traffics and negotiations of his subjects. the war. he who applies himself to the law for reparation of an offense none to his honour. as our historians report. bound in all their domestic affairs. {BK1_22 ^paragraph 25} What can be more savage. and things being referred to the decision of truth and reason. and where justice may legitimately be denied to him that has not wherewithal to pay. who first opposed Charlemagne. what can be more strange than to see a people obliged to obey laws they never understood. fran . and he who does not. free. and of which they are of necessity to purchase both the interpretation and the use? Not according to the ingenious opinion of Isocrates. I shall as him. in so many of his writings. ma es another body separate from nobility: whence it comes to pass. to add to the three ancient ones of the church. or not daring so much as to touch them. precipitate themselves into the liberty and protection of custom. who is there see ing to bring them bac to their true use. these valour. Whoever would disengage himself from this violent prejudice of custom. which is the body's service and convenience. has strewed the little account he made of incestuous conjunctions. a merchandise in so great repute. * Laws. as the other do a lie revenged: by the law of arms. sales and purchases to rules they cannot possibly now.of very obscure and difficult research. For example.. viii. having the laws in their own hands. I thin myself obliged to fortune that. wills. committed with how near relations soever. where judgments are paid for with ready money. which fourth estate. it was a Gascon gentleman.divided betwixt them. he who vindicates his reputation by revenge incurs a capital punishment. when he attempted to impose upon us Latin and imperial laws. the office of a judge is bought and sold. those the word. these have the profit. and subject themselves to wild opinions. and our masters either lightly pass them over. that there are double laws. these the honour. those of honour and those of justice. both of them referring to one head. and laden with heavy impositions and penalties. those the wisdom. as in a government to create a fourth estate of wrangling lawyers. the one has the charge of peace. being neither written nor published in their own language. than to see a nation where. and sovereign power over men's lives and fortunes. nobility and people. he shall be degraded from all nobility and honour who puts up with an affront. as marriages. that have no other support than the hoary head and rivelled face of ancient usage. Yet of these two so different things. these the short. these force. he will find his judgment as it were altogether overthrown. there puffing themselves out and triumphing to their heart's content: such as will not suffer themselves to be withdrawn from this original source. For what concerns indifferent things. and yet restored to a much more sure estate. and to give to laws a course of merchandise. those reason. as clothes. and upon which their original grace and                           . to ma e sale of reason itself. those justice. a countryman of mine. and of profit to them. is censured and punished by the law. and by the civil law. and their quarrels and disputes burdensome. witness Chrysippus who. would find several things received with absolute and undoubting opinion. by a prodigious opinion. by lawful custom. in many things altogether opposite one to another. disgraces himself. but.

he might immediately be hanged. all singular and particular fashions are rather mar s of folly and vain affectation. that it is impossible to stir so much as one bric or stone. it is not wholly accountable. and there eep it at liberty and in power to judge freely of things. will not prevail upon any understanding man to decline the common mode. our labours. and an alteration of the old fashion. For those for which for so many years have lain so heavy upon us. the general law of laws. for the most fantastic. * * It is good to obey the laws of one's country. and he of the Lacedaemonians employed his life. These considerations. we are to lend and abandon them to its service. that it was a novelty. we are to accuse for these disorders. our flat caps. our fortunes. let it be what it will. {BK1_22 ^paragraph 30} * Plutarch. and to the common opinion. but. with so strict connection. it. that long tail of velvet that hangs down from our women's heads. Nomois epesthai toisin egchoriois alon. that if the innovation he would introduce should not be approved by every one. And now to another point. -                     . in my opinion. as did that good and great Socrates who refused to preserve his life by a disobedience to the magistrate. should present himself with a halter about his nec to the people to the end. but the whole body will be sensible of it. but one may say. having been an eyewitness of the great evils it has produced. whether any so manifest benefit can accrue from the alteration of a law received. The legislator of the Thurians ordained. For my own part. possibly derived from an anthology of Gree quotations compiled by Crispin.. both without and against it. I have a great aversion from novelty. with its party-coloured trappings. that none of his laws should be violated. it was enough for him to condemn the invention. which nevertheless we ma e show and parade of in public. but. I will instance amongst others. * The Ephorus who so rudely cut the two strings that Phrynis had added to music. that every one observe those of the place wherein he lives. that can be imagined. or to establish a new. as there is danger and inconvenience in altering it. with colour enough. and that vain and futile model of a member we cannot in modesty so much as name. principally. on the contrary. to withdraw and retire his soul from the crowd. that it has accidentally produced and begotten the mischiefs and ruin that have since happened. notwithstanding. though a very wic ed and unjust one: for it is the rule of rules. and that a wise man ought. that whosoever would go about either to abolish an old law. what face or what pretense soever it may carry along with it. absolutely to follow and conform himself to the fashion of the time. but the rest. never stood to examine whether that addition made better harmony. methin s. and have reason. as to externals. within. than of sound reason. Which also is the meaning of the old rusty sword carried before the magistracy of Marseilles.fitness depend. Lycurgus. It is a very great doubt. or that by its means the instrument was more full and complete. xxii.Verses from a lost Gree tragedy. forasmuch as government is a structure composed of divers parts and members joined and united together. Public society has nothing to do with our thoughts. and our lives. as our actions. to obtain from his citizens a faithful promise.

always bring in their train.. made for the remedy of this first evil. that a public peace must be overthrown to establish them. has since laid open a rent. and to introduce so many inevitable mischiefs. pertinere: ipsos visuros. as a civil war and the mutations of state consequent to it. *(5) {BK1_22 ^paragraph 35} * iii. They who give the first shoc to a state.. in a thing of so high concern.Terence. and the natural light of his own reason? The senate. let the gods. the imitators are more vicious. into the bowels of one's own country.Livy. *(2) Fine words truly. whether they should hide. in the Median war. was bold enough to return this evasion for current pay: Ad deos id magis.. it argues a strange self-love and great presumption to be so fond of one's own opinions. quam ad se. he beats and disturbs the water for another's net. *(4) according to what the oracle answered to those of Delphos who. from this primitive and ever-flowing fountain. ii. upon the dispute betwixt it and the people about the administration of their religion. which must be done.. The unity and contexture of this monarchy. i. x. for he was sufficient to loo to what belonged to him. *(2) but the best pretence for innovation is of very dangerous consequence: adeo nihil motum ex antiquo probabile est. *(5) Herodotus. All sorts of new disorders easily draw. examples and precedents to trouble and discompose our government. they gave them new and more plausible names for their excuse.Heu! patior telis vulnera facta meis. by this thing called innovation. Heroides. to follow examples of which they have felt and punished both the horror and the offense. sweetening and disguising their true titles. to reform our conscience and belief: honesta oratio est. forsooth. But if the inventors do the greater mischief. ta e care that their sacred mysteries were not profaned. *(4) Those things more belong to the gods to determine than to them.Livy.Ovid. And if there can be any degree of honour in ill-doing. inquired of Apollo. *(3) We are ever wrong in changing ancient ways. and to introduce them. ne sacra sua polluantur. {BK1_22 ^paragraph 40}                 . of this grand edifice. and that befalls us. are almost naturally the first overwhelmed in its ruin. Can there be worse husbandry than to set up so many certain and nowing vices against errors that are only contested and disputable? And are there any worse sorts of vices than those committed against a man's own conscience. and only ta e care of themselves. and the courage of ma ing the first attempt. these last must yield to the others the glory of contriving. then it falls and tumbles headlong from the middle to the bottom. and given sufficient admittance to such injuries: the royal majesty with greater difficulty declines from the summit to the middle. having been ripped and torn in her old age. *(3) And freely to spea my thoughts. viii. xxxiv. which Thucydides said of the civil wars of his time. the beginning and pretenses of all sorts of wic ed enterprises. or remove it to some other place? He returned them answer. we read in our very laws. in favour of public vices. how they should dispose of the holy treasure of his temple. that they should stir nothing from thence.. therefore. * * Alas! the wounds were made by my own weapons. the fruits of public commotion are seldom enjoyed by him who was the first motor. fearing to be invaded by the Persians. And. * that. and so dreadful a corruption of manners..

so as not to burden my shoulders with so great a weight. pontifices maximos. This so vulgar consideration. is that which settled me in my station. and neither to wrest it. P. that defect is nearer allied to moderation than excess: the other is a much more ruffling gamester. nor to introduce anything of innovation. with which. and extraordinary examples. Ti. and ma e it his business to discern clearly the defect of what he would abolish. and of another who will underta e to regulate and change them. De Divin. but to contemplate with the greatest reverence: acts of His personage. and the extreme sufficiency serves only to expound and set forth the law and custom received.. * God nows. P. quem non moveat clarissimis monumentis testata consignataque antiquitas? * besides what Isocrates says. and in this to dare what in my better and more mature judgment I durst not do in the most easy and indifferent things I had been instructed in. sealed and attested with so many glorious monuments. aut Chrysippum. what a wonderful example has the divine wisdom left us. and should loo well about him.Cicero. Scaevolam. it is not to give us any dispensation to do the same. who. presented before us for manifestations of its almightiness. which we are not to imitate. cannot move?. Cotta very opportunely declares: Quum de religione agitur. those are master-stro es of the divine hand. 'tis at the worst but misfortune: Quis est enim. to the blindness and injustice of our customs and observances. whatever he shall do. aut Cleanthem. Coruncanium. though human reason has much more commerce than with the other. Scipionem. which it would be folly and impiety to attempt to represent and imitate. and the virtue of what he is about to introduce. and not for us. as to render myself responsible for a science of that importance. of whom the first pleads simplicity. sometimes. it cannot be imputed to malice. that. great and very considerable. sacrificing the innocent blood of so many of His elect. for whosoever shall ta e upon him to choose and alter. and to conduct His glorious victory over death and sin. in the present quarrel of our civil war. yet are they sovereignly judged by their own proper judges. how many there are who can truly boast they have exactly and perfectly weighed and understood the grounds and                       . and that we ought not to follow. of the nature of miracles. and ept even my most extravagant and ungoverned youth under the rein. but at the mercy of our ordinary forms of justice. and wherein the temerity of judging is of no consequence at all. If. sequor. Of which. to establish the salvation of man ind. and example for his excuse. obedience. the divine providence has gone beyond the rules to which it has necessarily bound and obliged us men. and to attempt that upon the divine. * For who is there that antiquity. to the maturing of this inestimable fruit? There is a vast difference betwixt the case of one who follows the forms and laws of his country. upon the civil laws. subjecting the progress and issue of so high and so salutiferous an effect. would do it after no other way. it seeming to me very unjust to go about to subject public and established customs and institutions to the wea ness and instability of a private and particular fancy (for private reason has but a private jurisdiction). but to admire.The Christian religion has all the mar s of the utmost utility and justice: but none more manifest than the severe injunction it lays indifferently on all to yield absolute obedience to the civil magistrate. usurps the authority of judging. where there are a hundred articles to dash out and to put in. equally above both our rules and force. i. and so long a loss of so many years. non Zenonem. mar s of express and particular purposes. which no government will endure a man should do. and to maintain and defend the laws.

shifted a day in the calendar. who were so religious observers of the laws of their country. they made one Aratus admiral. that being not forbidden. 'tis a number. that they would rather suffer their country to undergo the last extremities.. and better to ma e the laws do what they can when they cannot do what they would. but we eep it still in our bodies. being straitened by one of their own edicts. in truth. still reserving her authority in defiance of whatever we are able to do or say. to this day. 'tis true. to stoop and yield a little to receive the blow. who have no other law nor rule but what serves best to their own purpose. one of their ambassadors being sent to the Athenians to obtain the revocation of some decree. * -forasmuch as the ordinary discipline of a healthful state does not provide against these extraordinary accidents. and a common consent to its obedience and observation. P. it would. cast in the dish of those two great men. nevertheless.. Deor. heavy. to eep a man's self in so doing in all places and in all things within bounds and rules against those who have the power. and not by Zeno. in these last necessities. in what quarter do they lie? Theirs have the same effect with other wea and ill-applied medicines. that it was forbidden to ta e away the tablet wherein a law had once been engrossed. he new how to do it. and to whom all things are lawful that may any way serve to advance their design. and that other who of the month of June made a second of May. stirred and exasperated by the conflict. The Lacedaemonians themselves. to give occasion to violence to trample all under foot. and reap nothing from the operation but intestine gripes and dolours. sometimes presents us with a necessity so urgent. he advised him to turn it only. iii.Cicero. it presupposes a body that supports itself in its principal members and offices. and constrained. Cleanthes. for once. than. and when one opposes the increase of an innovation that thus intrudes itself by violence. and Pericles remonstrating to him. and. and Plutarch commends Philopoemen. So it is. by opposing without possibility of doing good. where there is no other remedy. or be guilty of any innovation. Lysander went superintendent of the navy. peradventure. Scipio. for. * When matter of religion is in question. 'Tis nown to be. and on the other side. that Fortune. After this manner did he who suspended them for four-and-twenty hours. the high priests. and he who. that 'tis requisite the laws should a little yield and give way. but strong enough to wea en us. and left them still behind. if they ma e any number. Scaevola. but withal. 'tis a dangerous obligation and an intolerable inequality{BK1_22 ^paragraph 45} Aditum nocendi perfido praestat fides. I am governed by T. De Nat. The potion was too wea to purge. not only according to the laws but also to overrule even                             . that would be able to give us very little disturbance. their affairs necessarily requiring that Lysander should again ta e upon him that command. Octavius and Cato. or Chrysippus.reasons of the one and the other party. that being born to command. A legitimate proceeding is cold. they have only set the humours they would purge more violently in wor . be more discreetly done. Coruncanius. in the two civil wars of Sulla and Caesar. by which it was expressly forbidden to choose the same man twice to be admiral. than relieve their fellow-citizens at the expense of its laws. so that it does not wor . by the same subtlety. under what ensigns do they march. But what becomes of all the rest. and not fit to ma e head against a headstrong and unbridled proceeding. P.

he new not what to do. could move you to attempt my death?" To which the gentleman. sent to summon his friends to meet the next morning in counsel." The poor man seeing himself thus trapped and convicted (for the whole business had been discovered to the queen by one of the accomplices). sir." such a one. offended any insman or friend of yours? It is not above three wee s that I have nown you. but the general interest and concern of his party. at the siege of Rouen. and. and nephew to the great Pompey. to confess to me the whole truth of the design. and who to this effect ordinarily frequented this prince's house). "Come." "Well. Cinna was contriving against him. though originally of foreign extraction). replied. in so many battles by land and by sea? And                             . or of Maine. by any means. "Monsieur. and without ever having given you any cause of offence. "I will now let you see. VARIOUS EVENTS FROM THE SAME COUNSEL JACQUES AMIOT. when the public necessity so required. tell me. to extirpate so great and so powerful an enemy of their religion. meantime. to that end. {BK1_23 XXIII. than that which you profess: yours has counselled you to ill me. considering that he was about to put to death a young man. folding his hands. of a design to ill me without reason. he saw this gentleman. being come before him." said the prince. grand almoner of France. with a trembling voice. Get you gone: let me see you no more. but. "is it possible that I am to live in perpetual anxiety and alarm. 'tis in vain to disguise your practice. as you tender your own life. to beg and sue for mercy. and suffer my would-be assassin. then. without hearing me spea . what inducement.the laws themselves." said he. and this made him brea out into several passionate complainings. that it will but ma e worse for you. henceforward. and presently sent for him. "and therefore be sure. choose. honester men for your counsellors in your designs. discovered not a syllable of this intelligence to any one whatever. "What then. and that he had been put upon it by some who had persuaded him it would be a meritorious act. had certain information of a conspiracy L. to go about to conceal or deny it: you now very well such and such passages" (which were the most secret circumstances of his conspiracy). how much more charitable the religion is that I maintain. through private hatred or malice. of an illustrious family. and another bishop. who had been denoted to him. and if you are wise. but going. convict as you are. "That it was no particular grudge he had to his person. a life that I have hitherto defended in so many civil wars. one day related to me this story. having been advertised by the queen-mother of a conspiracy against his life. your countenance discovers it. by your own confession. and having in company with him the said lord almoner. Catherine's Mount. the next day to St. and mine commands me to forgive you. for I am so well informed of your business. he therefore resolved to ma e him an example. that in the time of our first commotions. from which our battery played against the town (for it was during the time of the siege)." The Emperor Augustus being in Gaul. to wal abroad at liberty? Shall he go unpunished. "you guess what I have to say to you. this prince. after having conspired against my life. But the night between he passed in great unquietness of mind. and in her letters particular notice being given him of the person who was to execute the business (who was a gentleman of Anjou. proceeded to say. to whom. he threw himself at his prince's feet. who ta ing him up. he thus said. seeing him already pale and trembling with the conscience of his guilt. was in such a ta ing. much to the honour of a prince of ours (and ours he was upon several very good accounts. have I at any time done you offence? or have I.

and a great deal more that he said to him (for he was two long hours in spea ing). that the Cossii and the Servilii. By severity you have hitherto prevailed nothing. Cinna. and let us show whether I have given. thou hast underta en to murder me in such a place. by my bounty. hast thou neither means nor power in any other thing. do not interrupt me in what I am about to say. Now. honour their nobility. on such a day. after having denied it to others. I conferred upon thee.for the conspiracy was to ill him at sacrifice. go thy way: I give thee that life as traitor and parricide which I before gave thee in the quality of an enemy. and exclaimed against himself saying: "Why livest thou. and but t'other day was baffled in a suit. I demand of thee patient audience. and so departed from him. who has conspired not only to murder. and finally. he began again. he spa e to him after this manner: "In the first place. thou hast underta en to ill me. Let friendship from this time forward begin betwixt us. Lepidus has followed Salvidienus. in louder tones. ma e trial of the contrary. Murena. seeing him in this perplexity: "Will you ta e a woman's counsel?" said she. "that thou wouldst not interrupt me. if there be no other than I to obstruct thy hopes. Begin now. by the opposed interest of a mere manumitted slave. and so reaped the due reward of this so generous                             . countermanded his friends he had before summoned to council. Some time after. having ordered all the rest out of the room. from the time of this accident which befell Augustus in the fortieth year of his age. Lepidus. "Do as the physicians do. and a chair by his appointment set him. in such and such company. shall this man be pardoned. would suffer or endure thee?" After this. and so many noble Romans. and was. Cinna is convict. Cinna. Caepio. and it will be an act to thy glory. and in such a manner." At which words. and try how sweetness and clemency will succeed. "to what end wouldst thou do it? Is it to be emperor? Believe me. the Republic is in very ill condition. that the victorious envied the conquered." Augustus was well pleased that he had met with an advocate of his own humour. who. and. of living well and at thy ease. not upon the account of his promise so to be. remaining for some time silent. but who by their virtue.after having settled the universal peace of the whole world. that having ta en thee prisoner in the enemy's camp. Egnatius. having than ed his wife." proceeded Augustus. Murena. and thou an enemy. whose fathers have ever borne arms in my service. when the ordinary recipes will do no good. in the morning. The sacerdotal office which thou madest suit to me for. or thou hast received thy life with the better faith". "Now go. that Fabius. After which. at last. but only to underta e Caesar? I quit the throne. forgive him. Cinna. restored to thee all thy goods. Caepio. seeing Cinna astounded and silent. but to sacrifice me?". I gave thee thy life. What. not only so become. put thee in so good a posture. but interdict with the weight of his conscience: "Why. but born so. wherefore. he preferred him to the consular dignity. Thou art not able so much as to defend thy own house. he never had any conspiracy or attempt against him. he commanded Cinna all alone to be brought to him. complaining that he had not the confidence to demand it. he will never henceforth have the heart to hurt thee. Thou nowest. who being accordingly come. made by him sole heir to all his estate. if it be for the good of so many that thou shouldst die? must there be no end of thy revenges and cruelties? Is thy life of so great value that so many mischiefs must be done to preserve it?" His wife Livia. Cinna. if I am the only man betwixt thee and the empire. not only so in title." continued Augustus. had him ever after for his very great friend." At which Cinna crying out that he was very far from entertaining any so wic ed a thought: "Thou dost not eep thy promise. After so many obligations. Yes. Canst thou believe that Paulus. and I will afterwards give thee time and leisure to answer.

as if there was no other art but theirs that could not stand upon its own legs. The poetic raptures. in this doubt and uncertainty. and is by so much more apt to mistrust itself. methin s. moreover. I should assist her adversary. that for the most part prompt them to follow the worst grounded counsels. But it did not so happen with our prince. a richer sense and more quaint expression. Fortune will still be mistress of events. I perceive. and whose foundations are too wea to support itself upon its own basis. I thin of physic as much good or ill as any one would have me: for. telling them who importune me to ta e physic. and. that at all events they must give me time to recover my strength and health. and to uphold that contexture. fortuitous alacrities and strange furies in their deliberations. But Fortune does yet more evidently manifest the share she has in all things of this ind. I let Nature wor . but when I am sic . by the graces and elegances we find in them. to hate and fear it. the dissolution of which she flies and abhors. counsels and precautions. for all that our wisdom can do alone is no great matter. as to beget his own admiration and astonishment. Now. where touches shall sometimes slip from the hand of the painter. for I always despise it. have been fain to tell their soldiers. the flights of fancy. the more piercing. that those who carry them on ma e use of counsel and debate only for custom's sa e. transgress. Whence it happened that several of the great captains of old. Fortune has a very great part. I say. we have no traffic together. instead of assisting her when close grappled and struggling with disease. at every turn. that not in physic only. every one sees how great a hand Fortune has in them. supposing her to be sufficiently armed with teeth and claws to defend herself from the assaults of infirmity. and burden her still more with wor to do. but that he afterwards fell into the toils of the li e treason. certainly. the bounds of military conduct and the rules of war. As to military enterprises. instead of recanting. or entering into composition with it. and when I closely examine the most glorious exploits of war. than s be to God. but in other more certain arts. as if no other art stood in need of Fortune's hand to help it. It is the same in painting. so surpassing both his conception and his art. sometimes. be something of chance and good-luc mixed with human prudence. lest. the wea er it finds itself. that the shortsightedness                                       . I am of Sulla's opinion. so vain and futile a thing is human prudence. For my part. We repute physicians fortunate when they hit upon a luc y cure. quic . I am afraid. relying upon her aid. his moderation and mercy not so securing him. and leave the best part of the enterprise to Fortune. why should we not attribute them to his good fortune.clemency. that I may be the better able to support and encounter the violence and danger of their potions. to justify those rash resolutions. Even in our counsels and deliberations there must. not only beyond the intention. and swell their courage beyond the limits of reason. There happen. that they were invited to such attempts by some inspiration. {BK1_23 ^paragraph 5} Wherefore. that ravish and transport the author out of himself. I am of a quite contrary humour to other men. I begin. and that he has them no more in his power than the orators say they have those extraordinary motions and agitations that sometimes push them beyond their design. throughout all our projects. but even without the nowledge of the wor man: a competent reader often discovers in other men's writings other perfections than the author himself either intended or perceived. and apprehensive it is. since he himself confesses that they exceed his sufficiency and force. and ac nowledges them to proceed from something else than himself. some sign and prognostic.

to sound Syhax's intention. dran off the potion he had brought him. whether by that means he had avoided the end his destiny had appointed for him. the reputation and glory of which men see with so greedy an appetite. Courage. whosoever despises his own life is always master of that of another man. the surest way. being advertised that Callippus watched all opportunities to ta e away his life. as in a camp. or what advantages soever he may see before him. was by Darius' money corrupted to poison him. with arms pendant. moreover. for how hard a thing is it for a man to secure himself from an enemy. And moreover. You will read in history of many who have been in such apprehension. and not trust his person in hands stronger than his own. this continual suspicion. witness so many Roman emperors.                             . there is no question but it was more noble and generous in him who had received the offence to pardon it than to do otherwise. but his friends also. but I do not now whether there be another passage in his life wherein there is so much firm courage as in this. Scipio. under colour of security. nor so illustrious an image of the beauty and greatness of his mind. he was willing to give them opportunity to do it? This prince is. that ma es a prince jealous of all the world. who has unexpectedly advanced his fortunes by following a clear contrary advice. and to be always fenced about with a pale of armed men. having notice by a letter from Parmenio that Philip. ought not to expect much either from his vigilance or power. when need requires. and to discover and now the wills and inward thoughts of those who are in our personal service. and. that he must stand aloof. neither does any one now. if he had proceeded otherwise. in my opinion. to be blamed for his good intention. which Alexander much more vividly and more roundly manifested in effect. and he had. nothing noble can be performed without danger. is to pitch upon that wherein is the greatest appearance of honesty and justice. that he eep himself close surrounded by his friends. nevertheless.of human wisdom to see and choose the best (by reason of the difficulties that the various accidents and circumstances of things bring along with them) perplexes us withal. Therefore it was that Dion. that if his friends had a mind to despatch him out of the world. not only against his enemies. If the former miscarried in it. presents itself. he is not. in a closet. as with arms raised. I now a person. that he must continually stand upon his guard. And I now another. had never the heart to inquire more particularly into it. preach to them ruin and dishonour. that the most part have ta en the course to meet and anticipate conspiracies against them by punishment and revenge. naturally of a very great daring and enterprising courage. whose good fortune is continually marred by such persuasions. his most beloved physician. the sovereign pattern of hazardous actions. but I find very few who have reaped any advantage by this proceeding. who lies concealed under the countenance of the most assiduous friend we have. that he must not hear en to any reconciliation with his ancient enemies. Those who preach to princes so circumspect and vigilant a jealousy and distrust. as in the two examples I have just given. as magnificently in cuerpo as in full armour. not being certain of the shortest. what promises or offers soever they may ma e him. Was not this to express a resolution. must of necessity be a strange torment to him. when. indeed. saying that he had rather die than live in that misery. Whoever finds himself in this danger. at the same time that he gave the letter to Philip to read. This over-circumspect and wary prudence is a mortal enemy to all high and generous exploits. lost the glory of so humane an act. did no other consideration invite us to it. to eep the straightest and most direct way. 'Tis not to much purpose to have a guard of foreigners about one.

for he was there miserably slain. 'Tis an excellent way to gain the heart and will of another. suitable to the quality of his person.. and not for an instant to have abandoned the high part he had underta en. The most mistrustful of our ings established his affairs principally by voluntarily committing his life and liberty into his enemies' hands. and commit himself to the mercy of the seditious rabble. and merited to be feared. withal. and in endeavouring to quiet this storm. in its fury. does not terrify and affright. wea and na ed. for the service of an important reconciliation. without obligation. not yet secure nor well settled in his new conquest. Nil metuens. in hopes by that means to appease the tumult before it grew to a more formidable head. and the dignity of his command. with a soldier-li e way of commanding. he again changed that                         . but by such whom the apprehension of death. that having ta en a resolution (in my judgment rather brave than rash) to expose himself. will effect nothing to purpose. without hostage. *(2) * Trust often obliges fidelity. to the end they might repose as great an assurance in him. to commit himself. he had perished with greater decency and reputation. not nowing what other course to ta e. But I am not. for to represent a pretended resolution with a pale and doubtful countenance and trembling limbs.. *(2) He stood on a mound. but it was ill for him that he did so. Habita fides ipsam plerumque fidem obligat. he ought to have stuc to his text. rather by obeying than commanding. of opinion that he committed so great an error in going out as men commonly reproach his memory withal. who was governor of a great city. I should also reproach him. as he did in choosing a gentle and submissive way for the effecting his purpose. to the power of a barbarian ing.leaving his army. abandoning Spain. and the worst that can happen. that this undaunted assurance is not to be represented in its simple and entire form. at least. could pass over into Africa in two small ships. whereas. v. and in such a condition that a man manifestly does it out of a pure and entire confidence in the party. when I was a boy. in this tempestuous sea of enraged madmen. with a countenance clear from any cloud of suspicion. coming to discover his danger nearer hand. provided it appear to be freely done. it is necessary to hold a stiff rein upon suspicion: fear and distrust invite and draw on offence. to a faith untried and un nown. and I am inclined to believe that a gracious severity. I saw. it is much more capable of reverence and fear. a gentleman. and the promise of his high hopes.Livy. and his nose happening to bleed. intrepidus vultu: meruitque timeri. his good fortune. Caesar only opposed the authority of his countenance and the haughty sharpness of his rebu es to his mutinous legions in arms against him: {BK1_23 ^paragraph 10} Stetit aggere fultus Cespitis. go out of a place of very great strength and security. nevertheless. There is nothing so little to be expected or hoped for from this many-headed monster. at least. full of security and confidence. and by entreaty rather than remonstrance. * In a life of ambition and glory.Lucan. But it is true. and without the constraint of necessity. his face all intrepid. xxii. upon occasion of a popular commotion and fury. in an enemy's country. he fearing nothing. by that action manifesting that he had absolute confidence in them. under the sole security of the grandeur of his own courage. to submit and intrust one's self to him. as humanity and good-nature. would have succeeded better with him.

to possess men with an opinion they have so good intelligence that nothing can be plotted against them. but that the officers who were most in danger should boldly go. and of great difficulty. I remember I have formerly read a story of some Roman of great quality who. A stranger having publicly said. and there were public and manifest appearances.demiss and fawning countenance he had at first put on. but upon the account of some extraordinary discovery. First. and thenceforward to beget a mutual and wholesome confidence and intelligence amongst them. The man made answer. that having received the first intimation of the conspiracies the people were hatching against him. flying the tyranny of the Triumvirate. This was accordingly done. amongst the rest. had a thousand times by the subtlety of as many inventions escaped from falling into the hands of those that pursued him. whose principal and necessary office it was to review them. that he was pre-acquainted with them. Dionysius li ed the invention. It happened one day that a troop of horse. and several counsels were proposed. and accordingly caused six hundred crowns to be counted out to him. however. if he would give him a good sum of money for his pains. that it might not be thought any of the city disli ed his government. {BK1_23 ^paragraph 15} I loo upon Julius Caesar's way of winning men to him as the best and finest that can be put in practice. Princes. in detected conspiracies. as in a case that was very nice. that he should give him a talent. a consultation was held. and. caused the man to be brought to him. and with cheerful and erect countenances ride boldly and confidently through the ran s. and served so good use. Mine. whatever might be the event. hearing of it. contenting himself. was. one of the conspirators. that they should by all means avoid giving any sign of suspicion. that carriage more inflamed their fury. and the belief of this served to eep his enemies in awe. It was not li ely he should give so great a sum to a person un nown. The Du e of Athens did a great many foolish things in the establishment of his new tyranny over Florence: but this especially was most notable. from Matteo di Moroso. he tried by clemency to ma e himself beloved even by his very enemies. that he might learn an art so necessary to his preservation. that he could teach Dionysius. and there is no place where they can be executed with greater safety). endeavouring so to withdraw and secure his person. passed close by a bra e                             . Dionysius. that there was no safe coming for some. It as upon a time intended that there should be a general muster of several troops in arms (and that is the most proper occasion of secret revenges. into another of fear and amazement. the tyrant of Syracuse. that all the art he new. wholly resigning himself to the protection of the gods and fortune: for. moreover. was. to suppress that rumour. as to please and gratify the suspected troops. filling his voice with entreaties and his eyes with tears. and soon brought the effects of it upon him. he presently put him to death. an infallible way to find out and discover all the conspiracies his subjects could contrive against him. and not to spare their powder. which was sent out to ta e him. only publicly to declare. and afterwards boast that he had obtained a singular secret from him. of grave consequence. questionless. but they have present notice of it. and. Whereupon. he too a noble resolution to await without solicitude or fear. in this state he was at the time when he was illed. and that instead of sparing fire (which the counsels of the major part tended to) they should entreat the captains to command the soldiers to give round and full volleys in honour of the spectators. do wisely to publish the informations they receive of all the practices against their lives. which being done.

that Gree and Scholar were terms of reproach and contempt amongst the Romans. what could I do less than be jealous of their honour and reputation? I sought.where he was squat. and to extract some consolation from this. with the better experience of age. are full of unquietness and uncertainty. seems a resolution a little extravagant and odd. the pains and difficulties wherein he had so long continued. so with too much study and matter is the active part of the understanding which. for Plutarch says. by that means to free both himself and them from further trouble. and great statesmen. {BK1_24 XXIV. for our soul stretches and dilates itself proportionably as it fills. loses the force and power to disengage itself. indeed. to evade the strict and incessant searches that were every day made for him. that as plants are suffocated and drowned with too much nourishment. very learned withal. being embarrassed. that we are not certain the thing we fear will ever come to pass. And 'twas so in former times.                         . all the discourses and judgments of the greatest minds the world ever had. by the pressure of this weight. OF PEDANTRY I WAS often. we see. and yet I thin he did better to ta e that course. and that a gross and vulgar understanding should lodge within it. and lamps with too much oil. than to live in continual feverish fear of an accident for which there was no cure. that a mind enriched with the nowledge of so many things should not become more quic and sprightly. * * Of all things I hate pedantic learning. than to be perpetually at this pass. is bowed. and confounded with a great diversity of things. to excuse them by the natural incompatibility betwixt the vulgar sort and men of a finer thread. forasmuch as they go a quite contrary way to one another: but in this. and. and how much better it was for him to die once for all. I find they had very great reason so to do. in the Italian farces. men very proper for public business. when a boy. to ma e room for the others. a pedant always brought in for the fool of the play. so great and so high fancies. and that the title of Magister was in no greater reverence amongst us: for being delivered up to their tuition. I should be apt to conclude. But it is quite otherwise. wonderfully concerned to see. said to me once. witness our famous poet Du Bellay: Mais je hay par sur tout un scavoir pedantesque. and that magis magnos clericos non sunt magis magnos sapientes. and in the examples of elder times. he started from his seat. great captains. To admit so many foreign conceptions. But seeing all the remedies a man can apply to such a disease. at this point. showed them his form. But since. the little pleasure he could hope for in such a ind of life.Du Bellay. it is necessary (as a young lady. To invite a man's enemies to come and cut his throat. one of the greatest princesses of the ingdom. subjected and doubled up. and missed very narrowly of spying him. the thing I most stumbled at was. quite contrary. but he considering. that the finest gentlemen were those who most despised them. I am yet to see . both in judgment and nowledge. 'tis better with a manly courage to prepare one's self for the worst that can happen. and voluntarily delivered himself up to their cruelty. spea ing of a certain person) that a man's own brain must be crowded and squeezed together into a less compass. called them bac . * But whence it should come to pass.. without correcting and improving itself.

Pacuvius. {BK1_24 ^paragraph 5} And. which is only a gift of fortune. but do nothing. poor. Those were envied for raising themselves above the common sort. Gree s. Do you repute any man the greater for being lord of two thousand acres of land? they laugh at such a pitiful pittance. they have been sometimes also despised by the comic liberty of their times. And. but more rudely and harshly than the herd or shepherd himself. so highly to value this. and though you were the fiftieth descendant from Hercules. as I have said.. irreverent. i. they were yet much greater in action. or neatherd: a lazy Coridon. whenever they have been put upon the proof of action. 'tis with a rude.. and straight begin to examine if there be life. as men who have not a right idea of the universal image of nature. they ma e no more of him than of a shepherd. that wrought effects beyond all human expectation. have avoided all management of political affairs. or to him. quite different from the ordinary way of spea ing: but these are contemned as being as much below the usual form. and he who demanded of Crates. as being descended from seven rich successive ancestors? they loo upon you with an eye of contempt. as leading a life and conforming themselves to the mean and vile manners of the vulgar: Odi homines ignava opera. as to the philosophers. they loo upon it as a great vanity. philosopha sententia. himself. a sort of men remote from all public affairs. if they were great in science. of the actions of men? they are ready to ta e it upon them. seeing the reins of government in the hands of incapable men. who having been disturbed from his contemplation to put some of his s ill in practice for the defence of his country. and barbarians. or a ing commended. as laying claim themselves to the whole world for their possession. occupied in mil ing and shearing his herds and floc s. and that do not consider how many predecessors every one of us has had. as it is said of the geometrician of Syracuse. as men ignorant of the most elementary and ordinary things. Would you ma e them judges of a lawsuit. their opinions and manners ma ing them appear to men of another sort ridiculous. and indecent liberty. rich. xiii.* The greatest cler s are not the wisest men. and violated the dignity of his art. notwithstanding. But this Platonic picture is far different from that these pedants are presented by. if there be motion. Do they hear their prince. for having assumed a particular and inimitable way of living. slaves. in Gellius. goatherd. law and justice are? Do they spea of the magistrate. Do you boast of your nobility.A proverb given in Rabelais' Gargantua. as incapable of public employment. ings. as presumptuous and insolent. And 'twas so the vulgar sort contemned them. for despising the ordinary actions and offices of life. and for using a certain method of high-flight and obsolete language. and enriched by the nowledge of things. and thin ing in this he had played the mere mechanic. have been seen to fly to so high a pitch. how                                     . But some of them. if man be any other than an ox. For what concerns the philosophers. disdaining all this handiwor . as made it very well appear their souls were marvellously elevated. * * I hate men who jabber about philosophy. of which these performances of his he accounted but trivial experiments and playthings: so they. that he suddenly set on foot dreadful and prodigious engines. what it is to do and to suffer? what animals.

but to furnish our heads with nowledge. or more able. so our pedants go pic ing nowledge here and there out of boo s. it is no wonder if neither the scholars nor the masters become." Heraclitus resigned the royalty to his brother. wholly to employ them in the service of profit and gain. and others of their profession. what a learned man!" and of another. In plain truth. for. after the manner we are instructed. and having. Whereupon. for to see the low and necessitous fortune wherewith they are content. than who is more learned. that this evil proceeds from their applying themselves the wrong way to the study of the sciences. than to sit at the helm of affairs in your company?" Others having their imagination advanced above the world and fortune. and bring it home in the bea . But the worst on't is. insomuch. li e a                                                 . they are no more mine than in their first places. Thales. that he did li e the fox. these are never thought of. but to transplant them into this. do I not the same thing throughout almost this whole composition? I go here and there. Li e birds who fly abroad to forage for grain. And here I cannot but smile to thin how I have paid myself in showing the foppery of this ind of learning. ever the wiser. what a good man!" they will not fail to turn their eyes. the cares and expense our parents are at in our education. "to do so. but not a word of judgment and virtue. and not at all in what is past. serve to excuse my pedants. was answered by one in the company.though I do not well digest this verbal distinction. I thin it better to say. We only labour to stuff the memory. have ra ed so much together. that Empedocles refused the royalty that the Agrigentines offered to him. he set a traffic on foot. not to eep them (for I have no memory to retain them in). he had a mind. once inveighing in discourse against the pains and care men put themselves to to become rich. point at nothing. and that. only to spit it out and distribute it abroad. to be tolerable company. We are. I conceive. received this answer: "Till our armies are no more commanded by fools. where. for the jest's sa e. we have rather reason to pronounce that they are neither wise nor prudent. does such a one understand Gree or Latin? Is he a poet? or does he write in prose? But whether he be grown better or more discreet. That which Aristotle reports of some who called both him and Anaxagoras. "O. and to tell pretty stories. who myself am so manifest an example.long it was necessary to philosophise. to feed their young. have loo ed upon the tribunals of justice. nowing only in present nowledge. though more learned. in not applying their study to more profitable things. and it ma es no deeper impression upon them. of one that passes by. who reproached him that he spent his time in playing with children before the temple: "Is it not better. and address their respect to the former. and leave the conscience and the understanding unfurnished and void. however. their scholars and pupils are no better nourished by this ind of inspiration. to show them to the contrary. which are qualities of principal concern. wise but not prudent.that will not. and hold it at the tongue's end. for this occasion. only to ma e a show. without tasting it themselves. who found fault with what he could not obtain. the bloc heads!" Men are apt presently to inquire. made a muster of all his wits." said he. and even the thrones of ings. and. to the Ephesians. to the people: "O. We should rather examine. Cry out. no more than in that which is to come. but passes from hand to hand. There should then be a third crier. "O. with all their industry. to say the truth. which in one year brought him in so great riches. that the most experienced in that trade could hardly in their whole lives. who is better learned. as paltry and contemptible. culling out of several boo s the sentences that best please me. {BK1_24 ^paragraph 10} But letting this first reason alone.

for though we could become learned by other men's learning. to the end. *(3) {BK1_24 ^paragraph 20}                               . which is an idle and superficial learning. *(2) Spea ing is not so necessary as governing. v.Cicero. to procure men that were excellent in all sorts of science. Bouha prou bouha. these were the manners of Plato. as they. causes productions of wit. I now one.. also. Would I fortify myself against the fear of death. till first he has consulted his dictionary. *(2) Si cupidus.Seneca. I might have found it in myself. in nations where art has the least to do. Quaes. a man can never be wise but by his own wisdom. * Non est loquendum. We are in this very li e him who. one with a sentence of Seneca. not from themselves. {BK1_24 ^paragraph 15} And this puts me in mind of that rich gentleman of Rome. non ipsi secum. what piles and posteriors are. Miso sophisten. is very quaint and subtle. Tusc. with very great expense. *(3) We can say. that when amongst his friends any occasion fell out of spea ing of any subject whatsoever. it is all over. these are the very words of Aristotle. mas a remuda lous dits qu'em. sat down to warm himself without remembering to carry any with him home. and so forth. and he fancied this nowledge to be his own. it must be at the expense of Seneca: would I extract consolation for myself or my friend. qui ipse sibi prodesse non quiret. sed gubernandum. * They have learned to spea from others. the Gascon proverb. and be ready to prompt him. We must ma e it our own. In relation to what I am now spea ing of. had I been trained to ma e use of my own reason.. they might supply his place. *(2) Nature. went to a neighbour's house to fetch it. such as may rival the greatest effects of art whatever. every one according to his talent. derived from a corn-pipe. that we destroy our own strength and vigour. I do not li e this relative and mendicant understanding. et Euganea quantumvis mollior agna. learned to be so after this perfunctory manner? We suffer ourselves to lean and rely so strongly upon the arm of another. but if once you offer to stir your fingers. made so great a captain. but what do we say ourselves? What do we judge? A parrot would say as much as that. si Vanus. because it was in the heads of those who lived upon his bounty. ostis ouch auto sophos. *(3) You may blow till your eyes start out. he presently calls for a boo to show me. oftentimes. We ta e other men's nowledge and opinions upon trust. do whose learning consists in having noble libraries. What good does it do us to have the stomach full of meat if it do not digest. who. I borrow it from Cicero. if it does not nourish and support us? Can we imagine that Lucullus. Epist. and finding a very good one there. whom letters. if it be not incorporated with us. * Whence Ennius: Nequidquam sapere sapientem. another with a verse of Homer. having need of fire. Cicero says thus. when I question him what he nows. or to set up at cards. Apud alios loqui didicerunt. to show that there is nothing barbarous where she has the sole conduct. without any manner of experience. of no other use or value but to rec on with. who had been solicitous.counterfeit coin in counters. whom he had always attending his person. and dares not venture to tell me so much as that he has piles in his posteriors.

They are wonderfully well acquainted with Galen. lettre-ferits. if they were to be judged by the affidavits of my experience. and satisfy him accordingly.Non enim paranda nobis solum. there is nothing so unfit for employment. they appear to be deprived even of common sense. let who will put it in practice. And. when a friend of mine. letter-mar ed. Protagoras. as Plato says of the Sophists. if the judgment be no better settled. * their cousins-german. in Cicero.either that they should give him his own demand. Fam. *(2) Plato. but to be utilised. mustering this ridiculous nowledge of theirs. all you shall find he has got. who in his own concern is not wise. who made it a study to declare what is justice. and has really nothing more in him than he had before. they have already deafened you with a long ribble-row of laws. If the rule which Protagoras proposed to his pupils were followed. at musicians. or ma e affidavit upon oath in the temple how much they valued the profit they had received under his tuition. that floats on the superficies of the brain. Meno. in truth. of all men. but understand nothing of the case in hand. whereas these fellows.men on whom letters have been stamped by the blow of a mallet. and who alone. and were ignorant of their own. are perpetually perplexing and entangling themselves in their own nonsense. {BK1_24 ^paragraph 25} Dionysius laughed at the grammarians.Juvenal. *(4) For wisdom is not only to be acquired. He should bring bac his soul replete with good literature. for you see the husbandman and the cobbler go simply and fairly about their business. De Finib. Sat.. and ma e us pay them for ma ing them worse. spea ing only of what they now and understand.. I have sat by.. not only do not better and improve that which is committed to them. De Offic.my pedagogues would find themselves sorely gravelled. are.. I had much rather my scholar had spent his time at tennis. but let somebody that is wiser apply them. They spea fine words sometimes. they who most pretend to be useful to man ind. at orators. *(4) * I hate the wise man. after fifteen or sixteen years that he has been there. for sport-sa e has with one of these fellows counterfeited a jargon of                                   . These pedants of ours. 'tis true. but never too care to do it. but ma e them much worse. his body would by that means be in better exercise and breath. and he brings it only swelled and puffed up with vain and empty shreds and patches of learning. Do but observe him when he comes bac from school. who were so exact in tuning their instruments. xiii. for the most part. of all men. and never tuned their manners.Cicero.Cicero. who cannot profit himself by his wisdom... viii. as a carpenter or a mason would do. *(2) Our common Perigordian patois very pleasantly calls these pretenders to learning. Ep. but not at all with the disease of the patient. they have the theory of all things.Euripides. *(3) If he be grasping. iii. that his Latin and Gree have only made him a greater coxcomb than when he went from home. in my own house. is. at least. *(2) That wise man nows nothing. for. as a man should say. sed fruenda sapientia est. * Plato. If the mind be not better disposed. to ma e parade and to get opinion. or softer than an Euganean lamb. or a boaster. i. to boot. who cudgelled their brains to inquire into the miseries of Ulysses.

so quic an apprehension. that a man would have thought he had never practised any other thing but arms. xiv.Galimatias. saving that he interlarded here and there some terms that had relation to their dispute. who having never made other profession than that of mere learning only. and reputation. {BK1_24 ^paragraph 30} Vos. but the wearing of his gown. for example. and that it is very requisite they should be defective in neither. and a fine gentleman of the long robe. the last may ma e shift without the other. of these the latter. when they are to admit officers. and so much as the very fashion of his boots. nor themselves. * * To what use serves learning.. moreover. Whosoever shall narrowly pry into and thoroughly sift this sort of people. whose own nature has of itself formed them into better fashion. quos vivere par est Occipiti caeco. find. of patrician blood. in Adrian Turnebus. but the judgment totally void and empty. patched up of phrases without head or tail. who all the while thought he had answered pertinently and learnedly to all his objections.Juvenal. had nothing at all in him of the pedant. As I have observed. proceed with the better method. but the other never without this. Queis arte benigna Et meliore luto finxit praecordia Titan. he was the greatest man that has been these thousand years.Persius. wherewith the world is so pestered. to which some of the others also add the trial of understanding. yet. O patricius sanguis. and in that. beware of grimaces at you from behind. i. what ind of man he is. and a little exterior fashion. 'Os ouden e mathesis en me nous pare. I hate our people. Some of our Parliaments. These are great and vigorous natures. it must.In                       . some excepted. nowledge is not so absolutely necessary as judgment. by as ing their judgment of some case in law. in truth. * that can eep themselves upright in despite of a pedantic education. so solid a judgment. and yet this was a man of letters.. posticae occurrite sannae. will. they neither understand others. who can worse endure an ill-contrived robe than an ill-contrived mind. and that their memories are full enough. {BK1_24 ^paragraph 35} * Whom benign Titan (Prometheus) has framed of better clay. if the understanding be away. in my opinion. alter us for the better. and been all his life employed in affairs of State. I have often purposely put him upon arguments quite wide of his profession. For within there was not a more polished soul upon earth. methin s. as I have done. * * O you. Sat. For as the Gree verse says. whose fortune it is to live without eyes in the bac of your head. wherein I found he had so clear an insight. and ta e their measure by the leg a man ma es. that for the most part. that could not be civilised to courtier ways. for although both are necessary. examine only their learning. by his behaviour. which in themselves are nothing. But it is not enough that our education does not spoil us. and held the coxcomb in play a whole afternoon together.

and by such people. and that even to this day. without doubt. pedantry. and that Francis. that. and adding that she was homely bred. And what loss would this be. And this. nor to ma e a blind man see. there ordinarily remain no others to themselves wholly to learning. Epist. but no drug has virtue enough to preserve itself from corruption and decay. Her business is not to find a man's eyes. that will hinder and wound its master. Would to God that. whose souls are. the good people have become eclipsed. sed scholae discimus. did not uphold and eep them in credit. but does not follow it. but to guide. our studies in France having almost no other aim but profit. * All other nowledge is hurtful to him who has not the science of goodness. boni desunt. not to tincture it only. that he li ed her the better. * Since the savans have made their appearance among us. Ep. So that it is no so great wonder. and consequently sees what is good.. ii.Seneca. and delivered to their recipients quite another thing. only for so short a time (being ta en from their studies before they can come to have any taste of them. except as to those who. and without any manner of learning.Cicero. Cf. if they neither instruct us to thin well nor to do well? Postquam docti prodienint. which is the only thing we propose to ourselves. son of John V. you would. and if the end and design of acquiring riches.Stobaeus. (1609). addict themselves to letters. peradventure. provided he have sound feet and straight legs to go upon. Rousseau. that our ancestors had letters in no greater esteem. is the reason why neither we nor theology require much learning in women. *(2) {BK1_24 ^paragraph 40} * We do not study for the service of our future life. and direct them. but people of mean condition. if the vessel be tainted and impure wherein it is put to eep. *(2) So that it were better never to have learned at all. For it is not for nowledge to enlighten a soul that is dar of itself. physic. both by nature and by domestic education and example. by the means of law. but only for the school. may it not also hence proceed.. who in that only see the means to live. as they ma e of it. 'Tis a dangerous weapon. it were without question better to let it alone. and that a woman was wife enough if she could distinguish her husband's shirt from his doublet. they are but rarely met with in the principal councils of princes. to a profession that has nothing to do with boo s). Such a one may have a sight clear enough who loo s asquint. But the reason I glanced upon but now. Discours sur les Lettres. govern. but to wor and incorporate them together. but ma es no                                               . Quaes. and sees nowledge. these societies were as well furnished with understanding and conscience as they are with nowledge. Knowledge is an excellent drug.Seneca. see them in as pitiful a condition as ever. for the good of our judicature.. but to give it a thorough and perfect die. by nature born to offices and employments rather of glory than gain. of the basest alloy the fruits of nowledge are immaturely gathered and ill digested. which. one tal ing with him about his marriage with Isabella the daughter of Scotland. and even divinity itself. if put into an aw ward and uns ilful hand: Ut fuerit melius non didicisse. Non vitae. Du e of Brittany. if at all. iii.. if it will not ta e colour. Tusc. * We are not to tie learning to the soul. and meliorate its imperfect state. made answer.

Nature can do all. he should ma e so little mention of learning. which required that no one should have anything forcibly ta en from him that is his own. acerbo s ex Zenonis schola exire. gave judgment. In li e manner. the third to conquer his appetites and desires. the second to be always upright and sincere. Plato tells us. would certainly be applied to ill: asotous ex Aristippi. My pedant must ma e me a very learned oration. to teach him to ride and to go a-hunting. in that I had only considered the fitness of the garments. and. "A great boy in our school. Plato's principal institution in his Republic is to fit his citizens with employments suitable to their nature. In the excellent institution that Xenophon attributes to the Persians. being appointed judge of the controversy. and if they commended or condemned this or that person or fact. of whom the first was to instruct him in religion. as a thing of the greatest concern. in genere                           . instead of tutors to read to them arts and sciences. the most temperate. Degenerate and vulgar souls are unworthy of philosophy. we find that they taught their children virtue. the wisest. by force too a longer from another that was not so tall as he. as other nations do letters. and (constantly) a scholar of less sufficiency. not to women. 'tis no wonder. Cripples are very unfit for exercises of the body. The manner of their discipline was to propound to them questions in judgment upon men and their actions. prodigious form of civil regimen set down by Lycurgus. ought to be supplied." And Cyrus adds that he was whipped for his pains. and the fourth to despise all danger. forasmuch as most of the souls of those that heard them were not capable of ma ing benefit of instructions. Deor. I had done ill. they were to give a reason for so doing.. experience often presents us a physician worse physic ed. in truth. as s Cyrus to give an account of his last lesson. that philosophers did their auditors harm. and most valiant of the nation. whereas I ought to have considered the justice of the thing. and learned what was right. commonly. that I thought it best each should eep the coat he had. iii. than other people. the most just. a divine less reformed. disdaining all other subjection but that of virtue. and churls and cynics from that of Zeno. with such masters as should only instruct them in valour. {BK1_24 ^paragraph 45} Old Aristo of Chios had reason to say. in Xenophon.. and justice. * * They proceeded effeminate debauchees from the school of Aristippus. so soon as he was born he was delivered.use of it. for its perfection.Cicero. and even in the very seat of the Muses. prudence. an example that Plato has followed in his laws. that the eldest son in their royal succession was thus brought up. we say. De Nat. and does all. If we see a shoema er with his shoes out at the toes. as we are in our villages for forgetting the first aorist of tupto. if not applied to good. but to eunuchs of the greatest authority about their ings for their virtue. though so solicitous of the education of children. and after he came to seven years of age. and thus it was. 'Tis a thing worthy of very great consideration. that in that excellent. for. by which means they at once sharpened their understanding. as if that generous youth. having a little short cassoc . none go worse shod than they. When he arrived at fourteen he was transferred into the hands of four. which. Astyages. whose charge it was to eep his body healthful and in good plight. for that they both of them were better fitted with that of one another than with their own: upon which my master told me. and lame souls for exercises of the mind. and gave him his own in exchange: whereupon I.

but chiefly by wor s and examples." said he. there was an eternal babble of the tongue. vii. that they were to leave this ind of furniture entire to the enemy. I find Rome was more valiant before she grew so learned. They new how to go the readiest way to wor . The most potent empire. and resolution. but a natural possession. who recounts to him what a world of money he has got. the only thing that preserved all the libraries from the fire was. that some one possessed them with an opinion. to the other cities of Greece." says Socrates. Examples have demonstrated to us. these made it their business to inquire into things. When the Goths overran Greece. painters. And therefore it is nothing strange if. there to disengage themselves from a sophistical argument. serve for sufficient proof of this. and all others of the li e active nature. Agesilaus. and only busy themselves in studying the genealogies and successions of their ings. to the end it might not be a nowledge in the mind only. before he can persuade me that his school is li e unto that. and with a noble courage and resolution to conquer the menaces of fortune and death. here a continual exercise of the soul. rallying Hippias. namely. to inquire out rhetoricians. when Antipater demanded of them fifty children for hostages. a people equally inured to the estimation of arms and the contempt of letters. in lively forming and moulding them. Agesilaus. and to command. magistrates. quite contrary to what we should do." said he. especially in certain little villages of Sicily. if such an institution produced so admirable effects. Tamerlane. after his manner. The most warli e nations at this time in being are the most rude and ignorant: the Scythians. those cudgelled their brains about words.demonstrativo. not by hearsay and rote. "it is not. moral honesty. and to instruct them. at first hand. to initiate their children with the nowledge of effects. and generals of armies. not only by words and precepts. they made answer. rises. that ma e no account either of grammar or poetry. but its complexion and habit: not an acquisition. the Parthians. what he thought most proper for boys to learn? "What they ought to do when they come to be men. but by the experiment of action. and to fix                                 ." * * Plutarch. the science to obey. but to be instructed in the noblest of all sciences. so much did they value the loss of their country's education. they thought fit. and declensions of states. "there to learn logic or rhetoric. than it in any way fortifies and excites them. here to evade the baits and allurements of pleasure. It is no wonder. by teaching school. he leaves him to guess at the conclusion he ma es of the inutilities of his pedantic arts. that in military affairs. "are they. and such tales of a tub!" After which. can do no more but teach us prudence. the study of sciences more softens and untempers the courages of men. that they would rather give him twice as many full-grown men. having made Hippias from one step to another ac nowledge the excellency of their form of public administration. that at this day appears to be in the whole world. it is said. the foundations. and musicians. when most rightly applied and best understood. and to unravel the imposture of captious syllogisms. but to Lacedaemon for legislators. as being most proper to divert them from the exercise of arms. without sense or understanding. and seeing that science. One as ing to this purpose. and the felicity and virtue of their private life. at Athens they learned to spea well: here to do well. {BK1_24 ^paragraph 50} They used to go. When Agesilaus courted Xenophon to send his children to Sparta to be bred. and that he made never a penny at Sparta: "What a sottish and stupid people. It is very pleasant to see Socrates. is that of the Tur s.

in general. unaptly enough. a lesson as strange and un nown to him. if it befal me. that all I write here are but the idle reveries of a man that has only nibbled upon the outward crust of sciences in his nonage. but let his son be never so decrepit or deformed. I yet now farther. and it as constantly runs out. with a troubled and imperfect sight and wrapped up in clouds. who am not able to examine him in his first lesson. I discover still a new and greater extent of land before me. As to the natural parts I have. and there. the same heads and commonplaces upon which I have attempted to write (as I did but just now in Plutarch's "Discourse of the Force of Imagination"). to as him. or particularly addicted myself to any one science. as the voice. I find them to bow under the burden. I am in no degree satisfied. than vigorous and warli e. in my own defense. a sentence pressed within the harmony of verse. that I am not able to penetrate. I at once pity or despise                                   . And ta ing upon me to write indifferently of whatever comes into my head. for which I have particular indness and esteem: for. that there is such a thing as physic. so heavy and so flat. and peradventure. what sciences in general pretend unto. Just so. which. or else poetry. forced through the narrow passage of a trumpet. some universal questions. and stri es my ear and apprehension with a smarter and more pleasing effect. I eternally fill. tripping and stumbling in the way. something of which drops upon this paper. saw himself possessed of the ingdom of Naples and a considerable part of Tuscany. insomuch that there is not a boy of the lowest form in a school. comes out more forcible and shrill. to see myself so wea and so forlorn. that the princes and nobles of Italy. and blinded with his paternal affection. roughly. such as may serve to try his natural understanding. more studied to render themselves ingenious and learned. I have done it. who has got a little snatch of everything. methin s. and when I have gone as far as I can. he was still his. notwithstanding. that he did not well enough discern his defects: but that with all defaults. accidentally to meet in any good author. my fancy and judgment do but grope in the dar . own him: not. if he were not totally besotted. and therein ma ing use of nothing but my own proper and natural means. four parts in mathematics. When our King Charles VIII. what all these aim and point at. For I now. nevertheless. would not. as Cleanthes said. almost without stri ing a blow. I am necessitated. so. but little or nothing stays with me. and only retained a general and formless image of them. and to have cudgelled my brains in the study of Aristotle. li e the Danaides. as his is to me. History is my particular game as to matter of reading. a la Francoise. the monarch of all modern learning. if I am at any time forced upon. in comparison of those better writers. as jurisprudence. darts out more bris ly upon the understanding.them to a lazy and sedentary life. neither is there any one art of which I am able to draw the first lineaments and dead colour. I never seriously settled myself to the reading any boo of solid learning but Plutarch and Seneca. and nothing of the whole. OF THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN To Madame Diane de Foix. that may not pretend to be wiser than I. {BK1_25 XXV. the nobles about him attributed this unexpected facility of conquest to this. in order to the service of our life: but to dive farther than that. I see better than any other. and. as ofttimes it does. of which this is the essay. Comtesse de Gurson I NEVER yet saw that father.

myself. the whole Medea of Euripides. but withal. rich. If I could hold them in play. and so wholly cut off from the rest of the wor . so as not to discover so much as his fingers' ends. patched up here and there with his own trumpery. that should a man pic out of his writings all that was none of his. so void of all wit or common sense. and that I go in the same path. has not so much as any one quotation. for I never attac them. I do not offer to contend with the whole body of these champions. and ought to have no sanctuary allowed them. though at a very great distance. in an ordinary subject to do) under old inventions. that is so. there had been some excuse. that I have a quality. do quite contrary. so dull. in three hundred volumes that he left behind him. but it was so perpendicular a precipice. I now very well how audaciously I myself. so insipid. without mending or plastering up the defects that this comparison has laid open to my own view. he would leave him nothing but blan paper: whereas the latter. If I should set out one of my discourses with such rich spoils as these. and. Chrysippus and Epicurus. attempt to equal myself to my thefts. "Ah. and to ma e my style go hand in hand with them. I found myself flying into the other world. and elevated to the very clouds. to illustrate their own writings. I came at last to meet with a piece that was lofty. and then to endeavour to conceal the theft. Besides.                         . who having nothing in them of their own fit to procure them a reputation. which gave Apollodorus occasion to say. in one. and thence discovered the vale whence I came so deep and low. had I found either the declivity easy or the ascent gradual. The indiscreet scribblers of our times. amongst their laborious nothings. at every turn. that indeed they were only French words. as I often do. that I have never had since the heart to descend into it any more. which is. to carry on a design (as it is not hard for a man that has anything of a scholar in him. and to ma e it pass for his own. and can say. that my opinions have often the honour and good fortune to jump with theirs. in plain truth. The philosophers. than to condemn. to discern the vast difference betwixt them and me. that they lose much more than they get. which every one is not blessed withal. insert whole sections and pages out of ancient authors. low and feeble as they are. after a long and tedious travel. appears to me no more unreasonable. a man had need of a good strong bac to eep pace with these people. is first injustice and meanness of spirit in those who do it. where after I had a long time run dreaming over a great many words. not without a temerarious hope of deceiving the eyes of my reader from discerning the difference. of which." I am farther satisfied to find. to run on in their career. I do not grapple with them. it is as much by the benefit of my application. I was reading a French boo . that I hope to do it. those of others in myself: they are to be everywhere reproved. nor hand to hand with any one of them: 'tis only by flights and little light attempts that I engage them. And. quite contrary. but where they are most sinewy and strong. To reprehend the fault in others that I am guilty of myself. for this infinite dissimilitude of ornaments renders the complexion of their own compositions so sallow and deformed. I happened the other day upon this piece of fortune. but try their strength only. as by that of my invention or any force of my own. by that means. were in this of two quite contrary humours: the first not only in his boo s mixed passages and sayings of other authors. that. To cover a man's self (as I have seen some do) with another man's armour. and notwithstanding all that. by the six first words. but entire pieces. and never engage so far as I ma e a show to do. with a design. it would but too evidently manifest the imperfection of my own writing. who. suffer my own inventions. I were a brave fellow. Yet do I please myself with this.

and much more difficulty to cultivate and bring it to perfection. and Themistocles. and care rightly to train. I have no authority to be believed. so soon as ever they are grown up. and I deliver them as only what I myself believe. and a thousand others. I have a certain particular right and interest in the greatness and prosperity of the issue that shall spring from it.endeavour to do it by attempting to impose things upon the world in their own name. I will say I never intended to conceal them. so it is with men. and not for what is to be believed by others. if I had any sufficiency in this subject. but with mine. who turn up their noses at all this borrowed incrustation. but after they are born. but to get a better opportunity to explain myself. for example. but men. Lipsius. more care to be ta en. who very much deceived the expectation men had of them. and conforming themselves to particular laws and customs. applying themselves to certain habits. both by that and other ways of writing. besides that. having read the preceding chapter. if I chance to meet any new instruction to change me. in that learned and laborious contexture of his Politics. that it is very hard to establish any solid judgment or conjecture upon them. Loo at Cimon. which they have no manner of title to. no more than my old bald grizzled pate before them. that I should a little farther have extended my discourse on the education of children. there is nothing I would not sooner do than that. But. madam. yet whose praise alone is worth the having. plain. For as in agriculture. These are really men of wit. Cubs of bears and puppies readily discover their natural inclination. besides the ancients. their true and real disposition. where the painter has presented you not with a perfect face. and bring them up. engaging themselves in certain opinions. the other day told me. principle. but after that which is planted comes to life. the husbandry that is to precede planting. in truth. a ridiculous folly to content themselves with acquiring the ignorant approbation of the vulgar by such a pitiful cheat. but only to discover myself. who. that the greatest and most important difficulty of human science is the education of children. as for example. and that ma e it appear they are so. Now. and particularly one under the name of Capilupus. The symptoms of their inclinations in that tender age are so obscure. A friend of mine. Nor in this do I glance at the composers of centos. neither do I desire it. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 5} But. I could not possibly better employ it. we often ta e very great             . at the price at the same time of degrading themselves in the eyes of men of understanding. sufficiently obliges me to desire the honour and advantage of all wherein you shall be concerned. For these are my own particular opinions and fancies. next. I have no other end in this writing. that for not having chosen the right course. more art to be used. all I understand as to that particular is only this. be another thing tomorrow. being too conscious of my own inerudition to be able to instruct others. and well nown. easily alter. peradventure. be it how it will. Whence it comes to pass. than to present my best instructions to the little gentleman that threatens you shortly with a happy birth (for you are too generous to begin otherwise than with a male). is certain. For my own part. of which sort of writers I have in my time nown many very ingenious. it is no hard matter to get children. then begins the trouble. and yet it is hard to force the propension of nature. solicitude. neither have I said so much of others. your having had the best of my services so long in possession. then. or at least disguise. and how inconsiderable soever these essays of mine may be. as also planting itself. shall. also. and the promises so uncertain and fallacious. for having had so great a hand in the treaty of your marriage. and. there is a great deal more to be done. who declare themselves such.

upon the choice of whom depends the whole success of his education. who pretends to letters not upon the account of profit (for so mean an object as that is unworthy of the grace and favour of the Muses. is a very great ornament. * It is good to ma e him. as they were pouring into a funnel. science. in truth. wherein I ta e upon me to advise. madam. and then they spo e to them. has several other great and considerable parts and duties required in so important a trust. but rather of the two to prefer manners and judgment to mere learning. as for his own proper and peculiar use. and. your uncle. believing you will not omit this so necessary feature in the education of your children. with one particular fancy of my own. in pleading a process in law. especially in persons raised to that degree of fortune in which you are. upon this occasion. The charge of the tutor you shall provide for your son. in the government of peoples. they are totally unfit. I say. and are of a learned extraction (for we yet have the writings of the ancient Counts of Foix. or being too superstitious in those light prognostics they give of themselves in their tender years. For a boy of quality then. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 10} 'Tis the custom of pedagogues to be eternally thundering in their pupil's ears. permitting his pupil himself to taste things. every day obliges the world with others. without ta ing too much notice of. he may follow it so far only as it shall appear advisable. that is. which is all I am able to contribute to your service in this affair. I shall not mention. methin s. and how much he is to abate of his own speed. I am clearly of opinion. who yourself have tasted its sweetness. And.pains. contrary to the common method. than in forming a syllogism in logic. and since him Arcesilaus. according to the capacity he has to deal with. for such a one. your husband. For want                         . and consume a good part of our time in training up children to things. Madam. and to furnish and enrich himself within. and a thing of marvellous use. and to which Plato. nevertheless. trot before him. that at the very first. or in prescribing a dose of pills in physic. qui docent. whilst the business of the pupil is only to repeat what the others have said: now I would have a tutor to correct this error. and yourself. it cannot perform its true and genuine office. Wherefore. in it a man directs his service to and depends upon others). also. have his friends solicitous to find him out a tutor. he should. that they ought to be elemented in the best and most advantageous studies. put it to the test. I would. I would not have him alone to invent and spea . indeed. that he may judge of his going. auctoritas eorum. in negotiating the leagues and friendships of princes and foreign nations. as being unable to add anything of moment to the common rules: and in this. Obest plerumque iis. being naturally more prompt to assist in the conduct of war. besides that of which I am about to spea : these. li e a young horse. in persons of mean and low condition. to accommodate himself to the vigour and capacity of the other. but that he should also hear his pupil spea in turn. I will. having rather a desire to come out an accomplished cavalier than a mere scholar or learned man. both the one and the other. who has rather a well-made than a well-filled head. and that this man should exercise his charge after a new method. are both of you descended. by their natural constitution. In this difficulty. qui discere volunt. presume to acquaint your ladyship. made first their scholars spea . from whom my lord. and sometimes leaving him to open it for himself. and moreover. which will extend the nowledge of this quality in your family for so many succeeding ages). in his Republic. gives. and Monsieur de Candale. and of himself to discern and choose them. nor so much for outward ornament. however. Socrates. sometimes opening the way to him. too much authority. see ing. for which.

* * They are ever in wardship." A position. there are not found above two or three who bring away any good account of their time and discipline. they will no more be theirs. dubbiar m' aggrata. but so great an Aristotelian. and 'tis the effect of a high and well-tempered soul to now how to condescend to such puerile motions and to govern and direct them. that for having been a little too injuriously and broadly interpreted. when bound and compelled to follow the appetite of another's fancy. than those of Epicurus and the Stoics: let this diversity of opinions be propounded to. the stomach has not performed its office unless it have altered the form and condition of what was committed to it to concoct. I was privately carried at Pisa to see a very honest man. to see if he yet rightly comprehends it. and accommodate it to so many several subjects. I wal firmer and more secure up hill than down. * for. but become his own. is one of the hardest things I now. and lodge nothing in his fancy upon simple authority and upon trust. which also to now how to adjust. Epist. 'Tis a sign of crudity and indigestion to disgorge what we eat in the same condition it was swallowed. It will be necessary that he imbibe their nowledge. and said all. but about the sense and substance of them. if not. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 15} Let him ma e him examine and thoroughly sift everything he reads. and laid before him. i. and has made it his own. if he embrace the opinions of Xenophon and Plato. underta e. and of all truth.. Aristotle's principles will then be no more principles to him. he will himself choose. now that he nows. but by that of his life. and that all besides was nothing but inanity and chimera. are infinitely mista en.. follows nothing. Let the master not only examine him about the grammatical construction of the bare words of his lesson. nor natural pace of our own. finds nothing. * The authority of those who teach. Such as. enslaved and captivated under the authority of another's instruction. Non sumus sub rege. that his most usual thesis was: "That the touchstone and square of all solid imagination. to instruct several boys of differing and unequal capacities. our own vigour and liberty are extinct and gone: Nunquam tutelae suae fiunt. Let him ma e him put what he has learned into a hundred several forms. by his own reason. and to eep within an exact and due measure. and the same measure of direction. not that he be corrupted with their precepts. he will remain in doubt. that we have no free. if he be able. we have been so subjected to the trammel. Deor. and                                 .. according to our common way of teaching. *(2) Let him at least. for that he had seen all. Our minds wor only upon trust. and 'tis no wonder. if in a whole multitude of scholars. ta ing instruction of his progress by the pedagogic institutions of Plato. not by the testimony of his memory. Che.of which due proportion we spoil all.Seneca. nay. brought him once and long ept him in great danger of the Inquisition at Rome. Who follows another. is inquisitive after nothing.Cicero. provided he now how to apply it to his own use. was an absolute conformity to Aristotle's doctrine. Truth and reason are common to every one. with one and the same lesson. and let him judge of the profit he has made. De Nat. and no matter if he forgot where he had his learning. is very often an impediment to those who desire to learn. non men che saper. sibi quisque se vindicet.

and there establish them li e oracles. That which a man rightly nows and understands. full feathered. rules. and signifies no more but only to retain what one has intrusted to our memory. as these men pretend to inform the understanding. labour and study. according to the opinion of Plato. and the titles and honours he has obtained for him and his. which is all and purely their own. Epist. xi. *(2) We are under no ing. let each loo to himself. he will transform and shuffle together to compile a wor that shall be absolutely his own. Men that live upon pillage and borrowing. The advantages of our study are to become better and more wise. that is to say. a sottish mista e of a servant. or of the richness of Signora Livia's petticoats. how much Nero's face. and sincerity. tend to nothing else but to form that. in not allowing it the liberty and privilege to do anything of itself. which way it comes in: but every one publishes his acquisitions. since both he and I equally see and understand them.. mere adulterate paint. without any regard to the author from whence he had it or fumbling over the leaves of his boo . whatsoever presents itself before us is boo sufficient. are so many new subjects. * I love to doubt. Bees cull their several sweets from this flower and that blossom. are the true philosophy. and reigns: all other faculties are blind. without the trouble of practice. that are directed to other ends. or at least. in a statue in such an old ruin. conversation with men is of very great use and travel into foreign countries.are no more his who spa e them first. is longer and broader than that made for him on some medal. who says. And certainly we render it timorous and servile. without stirring from our places. as these attempt to ma e us judge and spea well. but to be                                                 . as well as to now. or. I could wish that Paluel or Pompey.Seneca. 'Tis. To now by rote. A mere boo ish learning is a poor. without exercising us in judging or spea ing. of which the letters and syllables are of the substance of the thing. handle a pi e.Dante. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 20} And for this reason. in our memories. as some others. paltry learning. and of such and such a sentence of Cicero? Our masters stic them. and deaf. that constancy. 'tis the understanding that improves everything. faith. No man divulges his revenue. and no more thyme and marjoram: so the several fragments he borrows from others. but only to produce what he has himself done with them. Whoever as ed his pupil what he thought of grammar or rhetoric. and without soul. those two noted dancers of my time. could have taught us to cut capers. that orders everything. He is not obliged to discover whence he got the materials that have assisted him. he is the free disposer of at his own full liberty. than his who spea s them after: 'tis no more according to Plato. the understanding that sees and hears. by only seeing them do it. or sing.. says Epicharmus. touch a lute. and the other sciences. and that acts. not to bring bac (as most of our young monsieurs do) an account only of how many paces Santa Rotonda is in circuit. expose their purchases and buildings to every one's view: but do not proclaim how they came by the money. a roguish tric of a page. or that we could learn to ride. without ever setting it to wor . Now in this initiation of our studies and in their progress. We do not see the fees and perquisites of a gentleman of the long robe. Inferno. but we see the alliances wherewith he fortifies himself and his family. here and there where they find them. is no nowledge. it may serve for ornament. than according to me. but themselves afterwards ma e the honey. a jest at the table. but there is yet no foundation for any superstructure to be built upon it. his judgment: his instruction.

* * Let him live in the open air. the authority of this governor. no small inconveniences in these tender years. It is not enough to fortify his soul: you are also to ma e his sinews strong. as eternally leans and presses upon her. and to which. the tongue will grow too stiff to bend. nor suffer them to be inured to hardships and hazards.. must by no means spare him when young. and their natural affection is apt to ma e the most discreet of them all so overfond. * A boy is to be bro en into the toil and roughness of exercise. cholics. Od. I now very well. naturally born of so hard and insensible a constitution of body. and even imprisonment and the rac itself. and often in my reading perceive that our masters. moreover. to my cost. that a sound cudgelling has been less to them than a flirt with a finger would have been to me. et trepidis agat In rebus. ii. which (as this world goes) is sometimes inflicted on the good as well as the bad. from being accommodated with a body so tender and indisposed. customs and laws of those nations where he has been. by misfortune. so as to ill two birds with one stone.able chiefly to give an account of the humours. threatens the honestest men with the whip and the halter. nor ta e a foil in hand against a rude fencer. are. and that would neither cry out. ii. and ever in movement about something. nor shrin . for a good swinging beating. how much mine groans under the burden. by living at home. or so much as to discharge a carbine. which really are rather toughness of s in and hardness of bones. for the soul will be oppressed if not assisted by the members. Now to be inured to undergo labour. cauteries. if it be not formed betimes. for I have seen men. that the respect the whole family pay him. and would have too hard a tas to discharge two offices alone.                               . 'tis rather strength of nerves than stoutness of heart.. They will not endure to see them return all dust and sweat from their exercise. that a child should not be brought up in his mother's lap. into those neighbouring nations whose language is most differing from our own. to drin cold drin when they are hot. nor see them mount an unruly horse. and children. which ought to be sovereign over the boy he has received into his charge. in our present civil war whoever draws his sword against the laws. as their master's son. Mothers are too tender. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 25} * Labour hardens us against pain. is to be accustomed to endure pain: labor callum obducit dolori. is often chec ed and hindered by the presence of parents. As for proof. and that we may whet and sharpen our wits by rubbing them against those of others. in their writings. whoever will breed a boy to be good for anything when he comes to be a man. Quaes.Cicero. And also 'tis the general opinion of all. and must very often transgress the rules of physic: Vitamque sub dio. as they ought to be.. Tusc. to be reduced to the worst of these. women. in my opinion. for he may come.Horace. And. ma e examples pass for magnanimity and fortitude of mind. and when wrestlers counterfeit the philosophers in patience. And yet there is no remedy. to which may also be added. that they can neither find in their hearts to give them due correction for the faults they commit.. manners. wince. I would that a boy should be sent abroad very young. so as to be trained up to the pain and suffering of dislocations. and the nowledge he has of the estate and greatness he is heir to. and first.

i. *(2) If Socrates and Aristippus have transgressed the rules of good conduct or custom. that instead of gathering observations from others. and very stout in his quarrel. to desire thence to derive the reputation of something more than ordinary. If his governor be of my humour. Let him be satisfied with correcting himself. that he should defend all things that are recommended to and enjoined him. a man's judgment.. Let him be taught to be curious in the election and choice of his reasons. necessitate ulla cogitur.Seneca. as if opportunities of interrupting and reprehending were not to be omitted. Acad. this childish ambition of coveting to appear better bred and more accomplished. and. and. ut omnia. let him be lessoned to acquiesce and submit to truth so soon as ever he shall discover it. and is no further engaged to any argument whatever. are to be sold for ready money: neque.. therefore. but only such arguments as may best serve him. we ma e it our whole business to lay ourselves upon them. for it is a very unbecoming rudeness to carp at everything that is not agreeable to our own palate. consequently. *(2) Let him be instructed not to engage in discourse or dispute but with a champion worthy of him. or is blemished with               . than as he shall in his own judgment approve it: nor yet is arguing a trade. is either blinded and less free to exercise its function. but withal he will cool in him the desire of having any other tie to his service than public duty. for he shall never be preferred to the chair for a mere clatter of words and syllogisms. si quid Socrates aut Aristippus contra morem et consuetudinem fecerunt. nor dispute it as against common customs.Cicero. than how to increase our stoc by acquiring new. Epist.. to abominate impertinence. whether in his opponent's argument. Silence. above all. therefore. defendat. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 30} *(3) Neither is there any necessity upon him. I have observed this vice. And. let him not imagine that he is licensed to do the same. ii. by such carriage. idem sibi ne arbitretur licere: magnis enim illi et divinis bonis hanc licentiam assequebantur. and are more concerned how to expose and set out our own commodities. discover himself to be. and not seem to condemn everything in another he would not do himself.. without envy. so it is intolerable for any but men of great and illustrious souls to assume privilege above the authority of custom. Licet sapere sine pompa. for it was by great and sovereign virtues that they obtained this privilege. but. to affect brevity. One should. being bribed and prepossessed by these particular obligations. than he really will. * Let him avoid these vain and uncivil images of authority. *(3) * Let him be wise without ostentation. he will form his will to be a very good and loyal subject to his prince. train up this boy to be sparing and a husband of his nowledge when he has acquired it. and modesty are very advantageous qualities in conversation. or upon better consideration of his own. De Offic. sine invidia. even there. and to forbear ta ing exceptions at or reproving every idle saying or ridiculous story that is said or told in his presence.. very affectionate to his person.And yet. where the liberty of recantation and getting off upon better thoughts. Besides several other inconveniences that are inconsistent with the liberty every honest man ought to have.Cicero. not to ma e use of all the little subtleties that may seem pat for his purpose. even in this conversing with men I spo e of but now. quae praescripta et imperata sint. For as it becomes none but great poets to ma e use of the poetical license.

though only found out by himself. iv. Let his conscience and virtue be eminently manifest in his spea ing. but to those who do it with care and observation. and that he do not so much imprint in his pupil's memory the date of the ruin of Carthage. that obstinacy and contention are common qualities..Propertius. things in themselves very pleasant to learn. as the manners of Hannibal and Scipio. A man that is purely a courtier. he shall. Ventus in Italiam quis bene vela ferat. 'tis a study of inestimable fruit and value. an eminent man.ingratitude and indiscretion. Let him examine every man's talent. whilst they at the upper end of the chamber have only been commending the beauty of the arras. Let an honest curiosity be suggested to his fancy of being inquisitive after everything. to forsa e an unjust argument in the height and heat of dispute. corrupt his freedom and dazzle him. nor so much where Marcellus died. that the Lacedaemonians reserved to themselves. a noble fountain. I have been present when. and we commonly see these people spea in another ind of phrase than is ordinarily spo en by others of the same nation. amongst so many millions of other subjects. a fine house. which are the principal things he is to see after. Let him inquire into the manners. this favour. he will create to himself an emulation of the good. and that the greatest fortunes are seldom accompanied with the ablest parts. even the folly and impertinence of others will contribute to his instruction. or the flavour of the wine. most appearing in mean souls. revenues and alliances of princes. great. whatever there is singular and rare near the place where he is. and very useful to now. and philosophical qualities. who. the place where a battle has been anciently fought. and something will be pic ed out of their discourse whereof some use may be made at one time or another. withal. nay. 'Tis an idle and vain study to those who ma e it by so doing it after a negligent manner. being in company. that to revise and correct himself. In this conversing with men. has pic ed out him with his own hand to nourish and advance. by reading those boo s. are rare. for I find that the places of greatest honour are commonly seized upon by men that have least in them. can neither have power nor will to spea or thin otherwise than favourably and well of a master. and principally. Let him not teach                                 . What profit shall he not reap as to the business of men. quae putris ab aestu. let my governor remember to what end his instructions are principally directed. * {BK1_25 ^paragraph 35} * What country is bound in frost. must needs. what land is friable with heat. what wind serves fairest for Italy. as why it was unworthy of his duty that he died there. to have his eye and ear in every corner. and have only reason for their guide. a passenger: one may learn something from every one of these in their several capacities. Let him be advised. I mean also. is an effect of judgment and sincerity. a peasant. as Plato reports. and the only study. a bric layer. converse with the great and heroic souls of the best ages. those who only live in the records of history. by reading the lives of Plutarch? But. By observing the graces and manners of all he sees. and not without some show of reason. let him go and see it. and a contempt of the bad. many things that have been very finely said at the lower end of the table have been lost or thrown away. Ma e him understand. the passages of Caesar and Charlemagne: Quae tellus sit lenta gelu. though what they say in that courtly language is not much to be believed. and the profit flowing from it. that to ac nowledge the error he shall discover in his own argument.

Plutarch had rather we should applaud his judgment than commend his nowledge. without considering. that if that simple ing of France could have managed his fortune as he should have done. people are very merry in a thousand other parts of the earth for all this? For my part. which is No. is a thing that of all others we apply ourselves unto with the most differing measure. One as ing Socrates of what country he was. he did not ma e answer. whoever in                                     . embraced the whole world for his country. But whoever shall represent to his fancy. to others the very anatomy of philosophy. in this error. as in a picture. in truth. and that there is no more mischief done. that many worse things have been seen. and Plutarch has read a hundred more there than ever I could find. insensibly. in the meantime. and have our sight limited to the length of our own noses. compressed and heaped up in ourselves. but in the meantime we are the worse. for he is. in his shallow imagination. where he says that the inhabitants of Asia came to be vassals to one only. who said very gravely. that great image of our mother Nature. in my opinion. who loo no further than our feet. and that the cannibals have already got the pip. 'Tis to our prejudice that men of understanding should so immoderately affect brevity. There are in Plutarch many long discourses very worthy to be carefully read and observed." Such as have lean and spare bodies stuff themselves out with clothes. When the vines of my village are nipped with the frost.him so much the narrative parts of history as to judge them. peradventure. but of the world. conceive that there could be anything greater than a Du e of Savoy. and that the day of judgment is at hand. in her full majesty and luster. Who is it. and that Alexandridas justly reproached him who made very good but too long speeches to the Ephori. that the machine of the world is near dissolution. and contents himself sometimes with giving only one bris hit in the nicest article of the question. li e the ridiculous Savoyard. that a man may say too much even upon the best subjects. he whose imagination was fuller and wider. of Athens. the reading of them. and that. of all others the greatest master in that ind of writing. where he only points with his finger to direct us which way we may go if we will. otherwise. that the indignation of God is gone out against all the human race. we are all of us. not as we do. for not having been able to pronounce one syllable. to some it is merely a grammar study. As. that author ever wrote. He new very well. so they who are defective in matter. I wonder they are so moderate. considering the license and impunity that always attend such commotions. in my opinion. that seeing the havoc of these civil wars of ours. does not cry out. and extended his society and friendship to all man ind. endeavour to ma e amends with words. for example. and had rather leave us with an appetite to read more." Only to see him pic out a light action in a man's life. than glutted with that we have already read. is itself a whole discourse. by which the most abstruse parts of our human nature penetrate. no doubt their reputation is the better by it. Which saying of his gave perhaps matter and occasion to La Boetie to write his "Voluntary Servitude. or a mere word that does not seem to amount even to that. an error of a very great weight and very pernicious consequence. he might in time have come to have been steward of the household to the du e his master: the fellow could not. whence we are to grope out the rest. my parish priest presently concludes. or not ta en notice of at least. when he said: "Oh stranger! thou spea est the things thou shouldst spea . for we are. but there are a thousand others which he has only touched and glanced upon. I have read a hundred things in Livy that another has not. Human understanding is marvelouslly enlightened by daily conversation with men. but not as thou shouldst spea them. To him who feels the hailstones patter about his ears. the whole hemisphere appears to be in storm and tempest. or than. And.

so many millions of men. license and liberty. and to be spectators of the lives of other men. and inform our understanding to discover its imperfection and natural infirmity. that man alone is able to value things according to their true estimate and grandeur. so many judgments. quid asper Utile nummus habet. others bring merchandise to sell for profit. accustom and fortify our sight without astonishment or win ing to behold the lustre of our own. opinions. that our life resembles the great and populous assembly of the Olympic games. not that they do not all serve in some measure to the instruction and use of life. is the mirror wherein we are to behold ourselves. what valour. I would have this to be the boo my young gentleman should study with the most attention. patriae carisque propinquis Quantum elargiri deceat. So many mutations of states and ingdoms. So many humours. and consider how and why everything is done. wherein some exercise the body. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 40} To examples may fitly be applied all the profitable discourses of philosophy. methin s. et humana qua parte locatus es in re. the tumorous majesty of so many courts and grandeurs. servitude and subjection. The pride and arrogance of so many foreign pomps and ceremonies. ought to be that which regulates his manners and his sense. that teaches him to now himself. how far death. aut quidnam victuri gignimur * -what it is to now. and what to be ignorant. quem te Deus esse Jussit. and disgrace are to be apprehended: Et quo quemque modo fugiatque feratque laborem. ought to be especially directed: a scholar shall be taught to nowQuid fas optare. so many famous victories and conquests drowned and swallowed in oblivion. render our hopes ridiculous of eternising our names by the ta ing of half-a-score of light horse. as to their best rule. and not himself but a whole ingdom. which is no trivial speculation. the first doctrine with which one should season his understanding. whoever shall observe himself in that figure. that they may carry away the glory of the prize. Amongst the liberal sciences. which only derives its memory from its ruin. Quid sumus. also. So many great names. encourage us not to fear to go see such good company in the other world: and so of all the rest. *(2) by what secret springs we move. so many sects. what ought to be the end and design of study. Pythagoras was wont to say. as all other things in some sort also do. thereby the better to judge of and regulate their own.her face shall read so general and so constant a variety. temperance and justice are. to be able to now ourselves as we ought to do in the true bias. and so many turns and revolutions of public fortune. by what to en a man may now true and solid contentment. and how both well to die and well to live. In short. or a henroost. affliction. This great world which some do yet multiply as several species under one genus. buried before us. some (and those none of the worst sort) who pursue no other advantage than only to loo on. to which all human actions. no bigger than the least touch or pric of a pencil in comparison of the whole. but let us ma e choice of that                                       . there are. the difference betwixt ambition and avarice. will ma e us wise enough to ma e no great wonder of our own. and the reason of our various agitations and irresolutions: for. teach us to judge aright of our own. let us begin with that which ma es us free. laws and customs.

and in what part of the human system thou art placed. or Capricorn having in the Hesperian wave. sometimes his governor shall put the author himself. whom and what the Deity commanded thee to be. "To what purpose. *(2) And how you may shun or sustain every hardship. *(4) What influence Pisces have. Ti Pleiadessi amoi. animosaque signa Leonis. what we are and to what purpose engendered. into his hands. which he shall thin most proper for him. *(3) 'Tis a great foolery to teach our childrenQuid moveant Pisces. and even in those that are.. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 55} Anaximenes writing to Pythagoras. his judgment being beforehand formed and fit to choose. If we are once able to restrain the offices of human life within their just and natural limits. limit the course of our studies to those things only where is a true and real utility: {BK1_25 ^paragraph 45} Sapere aude. but the river still runs on. and sometimes only the marrow and substance of it. how much it becomes us to give in liberality to our country and our dear relations. avarice. and sometimes by reading. dum defluat amnis.Aeneid. iv. and the science which he shall then himself most incline to. The way of instructing him ought to be sometimes by discourse. *(4) the nowledge of the stars and the motion of the eighth sphere. or the sign of angry Leo. before their own. with constant course. having death or slavery continually before my eyes?" for the ings of Persia were at that time preparing to invade his country.Persius. Epist. iii. superstition. *(5) {BK1_25 ^paragraph 50} * Learn what it is right to wish. physics. iii. i. he will quic ly ma e his own. begin: he who defers the hour of living well.which directly and professedly serves to that end. xvii. temerity. we shall find that most of the sciences in use are of no great use to us. "Being assaulted. Lotus et Hesperia quid Capricornus aqua. Every one ought to say thus. that upon every occasion shall supply him                     . "should I trouble myself in searching out the secrets of the stars. and will run on. to ages without end. rhetoric. Incipe. that there are many very unnecessary cavities and dilatations which we had better let alone.Propertius.... what is the true use of coined money. is li e the clown. as I am by ambition. Rusticus exspectat. vivendi recte qui prorogat horam. shall I go cudgel my brains about the world's revolutions?" After having taught him what will ma e him more wise and good. *(5) What care I about the Pleiades or the stars of Taurus?Anacreon. at ille Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum." said he. you may then entertain him with the elements of logic. and having within so many other enemies of life.. geometry. Od. and following Socrates' direction.. there may some man of learning be joined to him.Horace. and if himself be not conversant enough in boo s to turn to all the fine discourses the boo s contain for his purpose. *(3) Dare to be wise. waiting till the river shall have flowed out. Ti d' astrasin Booteo.

whereas here the mind has what to feed upon and to digest. Who is it that has disguised it thus. her state is li e that of things in the regions above the moon. 'Tis a thousand pities that matters should be at such a pass in this age of ours. fruitful. and so harsh. which is not. always clear and serene. much more fair and beautiful. are the cause. to which place any one may. and her contentment ought to fashion the outward behaviour to her own mould. and ghostly countenance? There is nothing more airy. rugged. ought to be of such a constitution of health. they do not so much as now her but by hearsay. more wanton. each habit the face assumes from the mind. even with men of understanding. deprendas et gaudia. either in opinion or effect. to be seated in a fair. that philosophy. as the schoolmen say. situated upon the summit of a perpendicular. and I had li e to have said." Deprendas animi tormenta latentis in aegro Corpore. a melancholic anxious loo shows that she does not inhabit there. sumit utrumque Inde habitum facies. should be loo ed upon as a vain and fantastic name. no value. and not she. is not only without comparison. And people are much to blame to represent it to children for a thing of so difficult access. you may discern its joys. and the words so vain. ix. 'Tis Baroco and Baralipton that render their disciples so dirty and ill-favoured. you are engaged in no very deep discourse. pale. nothing that quic ens and elevates the wit and fancy. and that. not by certain imaginary epicycles. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 60} The soul that lodges philosophy. but by natural and manifest reasons. she ought to ma e her tranquillity and satisfaction shine so as to appear without. and formidable aspect. to nit their brows whilst discoursing of their science. but will also be much more early ripe.with what he stands in need of. inaccessible precipice: such as have approached her find her. by prepossessing the avenues to it. * * You may discern the torments of mind lur ing in a sic body. quite on the contrary. And who can doubt. an active and joyous carriage. of which I thin those ergotisms and petty sophistries. more gay." To which one of them. and a serene and contented countenance. and with such a frowning. and never deject them or ma e them sad. as to render the body in li e manner healthful too. and the superlatives cheiriston and beltiston. they always divert and cheer up those that entertain them. This fruit. "Either I am much deceived.Juvenal. to furnish it to his pupil. and flourishing plain. with this false. grim. and consequently to fortify it with a graceful confidence. but that this way of teaching is much more easy and natural than that of Gaza. Demetrius the grammarian finding in the temple of Delphos a not of philosophers set chatting together. lean. and who teaches famine and fevers to laugh and sing. from whence she easily discovers all things below. however. and insignificant. but as to philosophical discourses. if he now but the                                 . more frolic. said to them. or by your cheerful and pleasant countenances. Heracleon the Megarean. arrive. What! It is she that calms and appeases the storms and tempests of the soul. She preaches nothing but feasting and jollity. replied: "'Tis for such as are puzzled about inquiring whether the future tense of the verb ballo be spelt with a double l or that hunt after the derivation of the comparatives cheiron and beltion. The most manifest sign of wisdom is a continual cheerfulness. therefore. that there is no hold to be ta en of them. She has virtue for her end. in which the precepts are so intricate. a thing of no use.

and. but a manly beauty. If the ordinary fortune fail. this sorrowful. and the innocent as well as the subtle. that it is to be acquired. li e a ind and liberal mother. and sweetly flourishing avenues. and find it more delightful and more excellent. as totally to throw it aside. but that he be bound prentice in some good town to learn to ma e minced pies. fear. 'Tis for not having frequented this supreme. and pleasure of its exercise. if not to lassitude: unless we mean to say. terrible image of it to themselves and others. that the gods have planted more toil and sweat in the avenues of the cabinets of Venus than in those of Minerva. may ma e it their own: it is by order. than from tennis or from a ball. that men may justly represent those monsters upon roc s and precipices. amongst thorns and brambles. that the height and value of true virtue consists in the facility. according to their own wea imagination. she does without it. has fortune and pleasure for her companions. that the poets have evermore accommodated themselves to the public humour. a natural. who would not wish. to return all dust and sweat victorious from a battle. though he were the son of a du e. active. triumphant. and created this ridiculous. whets our desire to those that she allows. through shady. by a pleasant.                                           . despiteful. sorrow. and amiable. and the lecher before he has got the pox. Such a tutor will ma e a pupil digest this new lesson. If this pupil shall happen to be of so contrary a disposition. green. he will then loo upon his own affection as brave and masculine. is so averse to all manner of violence. that is such a one as nows it to be his duty to possess his pupil with as much or more affection than reverence to virtue. and there it is indeed. li e that of the celestial vault. the other tric ed up in curls and ribbons li e a wanton minx. but her proper and peculiar office is to now how to regulate the use of all these good things. according to Plato's precept. not so fic le and unsteady as the other. who at the beat of drum. with the prize of those exercises. I see no other remedy. even to satiety. will be able to inform him. and deformed. be potent and wise.way. that he had rather hear a tale of a tub than the true narrative of some noble expedition or some wise and learned discourse. easy. the one in the habit of a heroic youth. and made of it a hobgoblin to affright people. so far from difficulty. But the governor that I would have. and ma e him sensible. who in rendering them just. to slip into the more natural facility of her own progress: 'tis the nursing mother of all human pleasures. in comparison of a soft. that boys. and nows how to lie upon soft perfumed beds: she loves life. utility. and affected form. who. threatening. wearing a glittering helmet. that they have gone. is an enemy to pleasure. querulous. this so professed and implacable enemy to anxiety. leaves that to follow another that calls to a morris or the bears. the glutton before he has eaten to a surfeit. and placed it upon a roc apart. artificial. And when he shall once find him begin to apprehend. and constraint. She can be rich. and without which the whole course of life is unnatural. in interdicting those which she herself refuses. delicate. having nature for her guide. wholly her own. Socrates. eeps them in breath and appetite. when he shall choose quite contrary to that effeminate shepherd of Phrygia. her first minion. and not by force. and shall represent to him a Bradamante or an Angelica for a mistress. as well as men. beauty. and how to lose them without concern: an office much more noble than troublesome. renders them also pure and permanent. that the regimen which stops the toper before he has drun himself drun . in moderating them. turbulent. simpering. abundantly allows all that nature requires. this beautiful. and health. and not a viragoish. this equally delicious and courageous virtue. generous. and forms another. that excites the youthful ardour of his companions. glory. and smooth descent.

that though he should live two men's ages. than of learning to read or to write. Neither should I thin it good. * {BK1_25 ^paragraph 70} * Young men and old men derive hence a certain end to the mind. as with infusing into him good precepts concerning valour. * * The clay is moist and soft: now. as well as for the decrepit age of men. four thousand horse. the remainder is due to action. et acri Fingendus sine fine rota. sent him. nor would I have him given up to the morosity and melancholic humour of a sour. They begin to teach us to live when we have almost done living. to subjugate the empire of the whole earth. The boy we would breed has a great deal less time to spare. learn how rightly to choose. prowess. not according to the wealth. I am of Plutarch's mind. when. by reason of a solitary and melancholic complexion. or that it is already past. things by which our lives can never be amended: ta e the plain philosophical discourses. why is it not communicated to children betimes? {BK1_25 ^paragraph 65} Udum et molle lutum est. for all that. and then rightly to apply them. Away with the thorny subtleties of dialectics. Petite hinc. Finem animo certum. temperance. Let us. or with the elements of geometry. while yet a boy. Alexander highly indeed commended their excellence and charm. he should never find leisure to study the lyric poets. A hundred students have got the pox before they have come to read Aristotle's lecture on temperance. a child from nurse is much more capable of them. in the beginning of his letter to Meniceus. they are more easy to be understood than one of Bocaccio's novels. or condition of the father. as some do. and so ma e a pac -horse of him. they are abuses. I would not have this pupil of ours imprisoned and made a slave to his boo . but according to the faculties and the capacity of their own souls. and I find these sophisters yet more deplorably unprofitable. nor the oldest grow weary of it. And yet. that Aristotle did not so much trouble his great disciple with the nac of forming syllogisms. "That neither the youngest should refuse to philosophise. he is                   . now ma e haste. he owes but the first fifteen or sixteen years of his life to education. Philosophy has discourses proper for childhood. and the contempt of fear. he says.. nunc properandus. ill-natured pedant. qualities." Who does otherwise. nunc. Cicero said.. says. v. fourteen or fifteen hours a day. as to be tempted to affect the practice of them in his own person. and stores for miserable grey hairs.Persius. For the other arts and sciences. and form the pitcher on the rapid wheel. but not ravished with them to that degree. iii. Since philosophy is that which instructs us to live and that infancy has there its lessons as well as other ages. juvenesque senesque. and with this ammunition. and tormenting him. that either the time of living happily is not yet come. and had them in very great honour and esteem. Epicurus.that children are to be placed out and disposed of. therefore. employ that short time in necessary instruction. by applying him to the rac . with no more than thirty thousand foot. magnanimity. I would not have his spirit cowed and subdued. miserisque viatica canis. seems tacitly to imply.Persius. and but forty-two thousand crowns.

for philosophy. morning and evening. had been very unseasonable and improper. she is ever to be admitted in all sports and entertainments. but. and to ta e more care of." said he. being at a feast entreated to spea of his art. that. and that which it is now time to do. we are not to fashion one without the other. 'Tis not a soul. we yet see. and the disposition of his limbs. and grown up to be men. exercises for the body. By which means our very exercises and recreations. And. And how many have I seen in my time totally brutified by an immoderate thirst after nowledge? Carneades was so besotted with it. music. But to our little monsieur." For to ma e orations and rhetorical disputes in a company met together to laugh and ma e good cheer. my young pupil will be much more and better employed than his fellows of the college are. out of respect to the sweetness of her conversation. that nothing can be more ingenious and pleasing than the children of France. Neither would I have his generous manners spoiled and corrupted by the incivility and barbarism of those of another. so our lesson. riding. dancing. she entertained the company. having invited her to his feast. a garden. and as much might have been said of all the other sciences. that he would not find time as so much as to comb his head or to pare his nails. and fencing. and all places to him a study. Epist. does he not seem to allow more time for. solitude and company. Aeque pauperibus prodest. a closet.discovered to be overmuch addicted to his boo . who. and of his offices and duties. And Plato. but a man. as it were accidentally occurring. we see after how gentle and obliging a manner. all hours shall be the same. but ma e them draw together li e two horses harnessed to a coach.Horace. The orator Isocrates. these colleges of ours to which we send our young people (and of which we have but too many) ma e them such animals as they are. his bed. wrestling. hunting.. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 75} By this method of instruction. as the formatrix of judgment and manners. has that privilege to have a hand in everything. all the company were satisfied with and commended his answer: "It is not now a time. but they ordinarily deceive the hope and expectation that have been conceived of them. it has been the common opinion of all wise men. the table. neglecta. without any set obligation of time or place. But as to what concerns philosophy. will insensibly insinuate itself. accommodated both to time and place. does her business at the same                           . aeque pueris senibusque nocebit. "to do what I can do. locupletibus aeque. But as the steps we ta e in wal ing to and fro in a gallery. running. though in a discourse of the highest and most important nature. in a good proportion." And. * * It profits poor and rich ali e.. 'tis not a body that we are training up. do not tire a man so much as those we employ in a formal journey. equally hurts old and young. as Plato says. Et. i. and we ought not to divide him. though three times as many. to nourish that humour in him. The French wisdom was anciently turned into proverb: "early. and falling naturally into every action. and to hold that the mind. but of no continuance. neglected. in truth. have nothing extraordinary or worth ta ing notice of: I have heard men of good understanding say. I cannot do. will prove to be a good part of our study. I would have his outward fashion and mien. and diverts him from better employments. formed at the same time with his mind. By which saying of his. shall be his principal lesson. that part of it at least that treats of man. for that renders him unfit for civil conversation.

others ready to swoon at the ma ing of a feather bed. and such as are dangerous to them. instead of tempting and alluring children to letters by apt and gentle ways. and am still constant to it.night. with the thundering noise of their pedagogues drun with fury. though not without some pains on my part. he says. they might have erred less perniciously on the indulgent side. I certainly believe nothing more dulls and degenerates a well-descended nature. wean him from all effeminacy and delicacy in clothes and lodging. a man might conquer it. steward to Alexander the Great. I confess. others afraid of a mouse. this method of education ought to be carried on with a severe sweetness. that he may not be a Sir Paris. and dances: of which. if he too it in time. Who would not be astonished at so strange a constitution as that of Demophoon. and a rod in hand! A cursed and pernicious way of proceeding! Besides what Quintilian has very well observed. and vigorous young man. horror and cruelty. and is very particular in. to wind and sun. in my opinion. quite contrary to the practice of our pedants. 'Tis marvelous to see how solicitous Plato is in his Laws concerning the gaiety and diversion of the youth of his city. in               . Such viands as are proper and wholesome for children. as the philosopher Speusippus did his. eating and drin ing. do in truth present nothing before them but rods and ferules. leaps. peradventure. Do but come in when they are about their lesson. and to dangers that he ought to despise.time too? As to the rest. They are made debauched. I have ever from a child to the age wherein I now am. by being punished before they are so. the strict government of most of our colleges has evermore displeased me. who sweated in the shade. Flora and the Graces. therefore. and how much and often he enlarges upon their races. one should. and only seems particularly to recommend poetry upon the account of music. let them there have their pleasure too. that antiquity has given the ordering and patronage particularly to the gods themselves. Young bodies are supple. and you shall hear nothing but the outcries of boys under execution. be some occult cause and natural aversion in these cases. But amongst other things. that this imperious authority is often attended by very dangerous consequences. but a sinewy. but. and shivered in the sun? I have seen those who have run from the smell of a mellow apple with greater precipitation than from a harquebus shot. peradventure. songs. How much more decent would it be to see their classes strewed with green leaves and fine flowers. All singularity in our manners and conditions is to be avoided as inconsistent with civil society. do not harden him to them: inure him to heat and cold. who. and particularly our way of chastising. been of this opinion. I will not deny. A very pretty way this. sports. in that age bend and ply them to all fashions and customs: and provided a man can contain the appetite and the will within their due limits. others vomit at the sight of cream. should be sweetened with sugar. embittered with gall. 'Tis a real house of correction of imprisoned youth. Where their profit is. Germanicus could neither endure the sight nor the crowing of a coc . says very little. with a furious countenance. to Apollo. my appetite accommodates itself indifferently to all sorts of diet. than with the bloody stumps of birch and willows? Were it left to my ordering. that beer excepted. Precept has in this wrought so effectually upon me. He insists long upon. Minerva. Away with this violence! away with this compulsion! than which. accustom him to everything. If you would have him apprehend shame and chastisement. let a young man. a carpet. to tempt these tender and timorous souls to love their boo . but as to the lettered sciences. hardy. giving innumerable precepts for exercises. and the Muses. I should paint the school with the pictures of joy and gladness. but that there may.

if you hear him." Hegesias entreated that he would read a certain boo to him: "You are pleasant. who so easily could transform himself to so various fashions without any prejudice to his health. told us the whole story of his debauches. but I am a philosopher.Ibid. if need be. and he who puts them in practice shall reap more advantage than he who has had them read to him only. and not nowing how to sin. prince of the Phliasians. one while outdoing the Persian pomp and luxury. and so only nows them. how many times in his life he had been drun in Germany. Epist. "neither art nor science. I. "you choose those figs that are true and natural. and not those that are painted. but for want of will. Let him be able to do everything. * Leo. as voluptuous in Ionia. xvii. Quem duplici panno patientia velat.Seneca. in the time of his being there about his majesty's affairs. Personamque feret non inconcinnus utramque. even to debauchery and excess. and to excel his companions in ability and vigour. The philosophers themselves do not justify Callisthenes for forfeiting the favour of his master Alexander the Great. * I thought I passed a compliment upon a lord.. *(3) * There is a vast difference betwixt forbearing to sin. *(2) {BK1_25 ^paragraph 80} I would have my pupil to be such a one. an nesciat. and withal. et status. and another. Let him laugh. you see him. that to philosophise were only to read a great many boo s. which he also too as it was intended. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 85} These are my lessons." said he. rather than those written?" * They have proceeded to this discipline of living well. that.. *(3) I should admire him who with patience bearing a patched garment. play. well became Aristippus. where he shall do it out of complacency to the customs of the place. as ing Heraclides Ponticus of what art or science he made profession. utrum peccare aliquis nolit. every station and circumstance. by as ing him before a great deal of very good company. why do you not also choose exercises which are naturally true.. the Lacedaemonian austerity and frugality. as reformed in Sparta. If you see him. *(2) Every complexion of life. as free from those excesses as any man in France. and that he may not give over doing it. too hard for the rest of the company. I have often with great admiration reflected upon the wonderful constitution of Alcibiades. who for want of this faculty. wench. Multum interest. have found a great inconvenience in negotiating with that nation. bears well a changed fortune. that is. persequuti sunt. "I now." One reproaching Diogenes. acting both parts equally well. God forbid. by refusing to pledge him a cup of wine.. I now some. you hear him. Epist. he should pretend to philosophy: "I therefore.God's name. says one in Plato. and to learn the arts. and made answer. be rendered fit for all nations and all companies. even in his debauches. Mirabor. but love to do nothing but what is good.Horace. being ignorant. either through defect of power or nowledge how to do it." said he. with his prince: nay." answered he. vita magis quam literis. et res. which of                       . Hanc amplissimam omnium artium bene vivendi disciplinam. "pretend to it with so much the more reason. vitae via si conversa decebit. Omnis Aristippum decuit color. "Three times". I would have him.

to learn succinctly to mix and interweave them after a subtle and intricate manner: let us leave all this to those who ma e a profession of it. Tusc. quite contrary. but a gentleman. after fifteen or sixteen years' study. I have observed some to ma e excuses. but about conception. and thin ing his companion was meant. I hold. who that gentleman was that came after him. let us leave them to throw away their time at their own fancy: our business lies elsewhere. divided into four or five parts. Qui disciplinam suam non ostentationem scientiae. than spea too little. The world is nothing but babble.Cicero. and other five years. who has thrown away so much time in nothing but learning to spea . compare one of our college Latinists. if there be grace and judgment in his spea ing. * The conduct of our lives is the true mirror of our doctrine. and who obeys his own decrees. The lad will not so much get his lesson by heart as he will practise it: he will repeat it in his actions. by their lives. Quaes. sed legem vitae putet: quique obtemperet ipse sibi. For my part. about fifty paces distant from one another. that their labour is not to delivery. with a gentleman at the head of them. wine or water. Quaes. and if you but observe how they haggle and stammer upon the point of parturition..all arts is the greatest. I met in the plain on this side Clery. iv. and the laws he has prescribed to himself. et decretis pareat. if there be sincerity and justice in his deportment. by signs                                     . I discovered a troop of horse. but as a law and rule of life. indifference in his palate. Will you now what I thin of it? I thin they are nothing but shadows of some imperfect images and conceptions that they now not what to ma e of within. and not amuse them with words. We shall discover if there be prudence in his exercises. do not here pretend to breed a grammarian or a logician. and Socrates commands it.. Going one day to Orleans. Zeuxidamus. if he be dumb. for want of eloquence. and pretend to have their fancies full of a great many very fine things. One of my people inquired of the foremost of these dominies. he will express it well enough in one ind of tongue or another. not as a vain ostentation of science. and I hardly ever yet saw that man who did not rather prate too much. that they cannot express themselves. you will soon conclude.. two pedants travelling towards Bordeaux. 'tis a mere shift. as many more to form them into a long discourse. if there be modesty in his mirth. Tusc. * Who considers his own discipline. and to tac them together into clauses. to one who as ed him. and that they are but lic ing their formless embryo. who was the late Monsieur le Comte de la Rochefoucauld. Let but our pupil be well furnished with things. words will follow but too fast.. at least. he is a grammarian. they cannot utter. order in his domestic economy. if there be constancy in his sic ness. he will pull them after him if they do not voluntarily follow. whether what he eats or drin s be flesh or fish. having not seen the train that followed after. that it was because they would inure them to action. that whoever has in his mind a sprightly and clear imagination. temperance in his pleasures. why the Lacedaemonians did not commit their constitutions of chivalry to writing. and I am a logician. With such a one. And yet half of our age is embezzled this way: we are ept four or five years to learn words only.Cicero. and nothing else. pleasantly answered: "He is not a gentleman. and a good way further behind them. ii. and deliver them to their young men to read. made answer. which yet. and. he. nor consequently bring out: they do not yet themselves understand what they would be at. rather than by their reading." Now we who.

Horace De Art. * And as another as poetically says in his prose. to incite him to a war against the tyrant Polycrates. neither does he care to now it. *(3) The things themselves force words to express them.. I will say. nor consequently the middle of your speech.. after he had heard their harangue with great gravity and patience. a good sentence or a thing well said. and that the wit and judgment have well performed their offices. (Proem). is always in season. I will not do what you desire": a very pretty answer this methin s. Quum res animum occupavere. iii. as Aper very evidently demonstrates in Tacitus. De Finib. *(3) He nows nothing of ablative. if it neither suit well with what went before.. 'tis no great matter. I will do.. and a pac of learned orators most sweetly gravelled. of these. et. Marcus Cato. verba ambiunt: *(2) and this other. I am none of those who thin that good rhyme ma es a good poem.Cicero. He nows no rhetoric. no more than his lac ey. and long short if he will. And what did the other man say? The Athenians were to choose one of two architects for a very great building they had designed. v. Controvers. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 95} *(2) When things are once in the mind. *(4) Plutarch. quod prius ordine verbum est. if you will hear them. came to Cleomenes. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 100} Tempora certa modosque. *(2)                           . or a fishwife of the Petit Pont. offered this service in a long premeditated discourse upon the subject of the wor in hand. a pert affected fellow. Poet. Emunctae naris. substantive. many were struc with admiration. I remember it not. Athenians.." Let it go before. praeponens ultima primis Invenias etiam disjecti membra poetae. Ipsae res verbe rapiunt.{BK1_25 ^paragraph 90} Verbaque praevisam rem non invita sequentur. who. durus componere versus. divest his wor of all method and measure.. and peradventure shall trip as little in their language as the best masters of art in France.Seneca. iii. The ambassadors of Samos. King of Sparta. Posterius facias. it is good in itself. *(4) saying: "We have a pleasant consul. nor has much coherence with what follows after. or grammar. first. the words offer themselves readily. * Once a thing is conceived in the mind. here's a good poet. but Cato only laughed. prepared with a long and elegant oration. says Horace. and yet these will give you a bellyful of tal . the words to express it soon present themselves. Indeed all this fine decoration of painting is easily effaced by the luster of a simple and blunt truth: these fine flourishes serve only to amuse the vulgar of themselves incapable of more solid and nutritive diet. gave them this answer: "As to the exordium. * Let a man. or come after. nor how in a preface to bribe the benevolence of the courteous reader. conjunctive. and by his oratory inclined the voices of the people in his favour. what this man says. Let him ma e short long." When Cicero was in the height and heat of an eloquent harangue. and for what concerns your conclusion. but the other in three words: "Oh. if there be invention. but an ill rhymer.

and ma es his cadences very near as harmonious as they. and bold. vocentur ad id. *(2) And as another says. but of rugged versification. *(2) Ta e away certain rhythms and measure. *(3) I for my part rather bring in a fine sentence by head and shoulder to fit my purpose.he will never the more lose himself for that. On the contrary. *(3) For the vulgar. and let Gascon come in play where French will not do. still these misplaced members have all the elements of poetry. and do not by such fooleries divert the serious thoughts of a man of years. irregular. a Westphalia ham quenches thirst. incontinuous. * Of delicate humour. every little dabbler. swells his words as high. but though they find it no hard matter to imitate their rhyme.Horace." Having contrived the subject. bound as it is. he too little care for the rest. Sat. Qui alicujus verbi decore placentis. the time drawing on at which he had promised a comedy. not so elegant and artificial as prompt and vehement: Haec demum sapiet dictio. *(3) More sound that sense. and change the order of the words.. not li e a pedant. as to go a mile out of their way to hoo in a fine word: Aut qui non verba rebus aptant. or a pleader. Since Ronsard and Du Bellay have given reputation to our French poesy. therefore. the same in writing as in spea ing. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 105} But what will become of our young gentleman. and a sinewy and muscular way of expressing a man's self. free from affectation. a preacher. Menander's answer had this meaning. and disposed the scenes in his fancy. and the delicate invention of the other of these masters.. that he should have something else to do. iv. The way of spea ing that I love. quae feriet." said he. drin quenches thirst. short and pithy. quod non proposuerant scribere." If these ridiculous subtleties. it will be more discretion to do so. the very pieces will be fine by themselves. they are dangerous. that he had not yet fallen in hand with it: "It is made. Chrysippus too him short. and ready. * as Cicero calls them..Seneca." Why. words are to serve. *(4) rather hard than wearisome. than divert my designs to hunt after a sentence. they yet fall infinitely short of imitating the rich descriptions of the one. as Suetonius calls that of Julius Caesar. than to go about to answer it: or let him borrow this pleasant evasion from Aristippus: "Why should I trouble myself to untie that. contorta et aculeata sophismata. "all but the verses. i. and so wholly possessing the imagination of him that hears. gives me so much trouble?" One offering at this dialectic juggling against Cleanthes. putting that which should be first last. for aught I see. than to thin of words. is natural and plain. sed res extrinsecus arcessunt. "Reserve these baubles to play with children. which. let him laugh at it. saying. but rather a soldier-li e style. Plus sonat. but if they signify no more than only to ma e him laugh. and the last first. I do not see why a man need to be fortified against them. and to follow a man's purpose. quibus verba conveniant. I would have things so excelling. There are some so ridiculous. where every piece ma es up an entire body. and yet I see no                                 . who being reproved by a friend.Ibid.. are designed to possess him with an untruth. quam valet. if he be attac ed with the sophistic subtlety of some syllogism? "A Westphalia ham ma es a man drin . Epist. there were never so many poetasters as now.

My late father                                         . *(6) For who studies to spea too accurately. the other. May I be bound to spea no other language than what is spo en in the mar et places of Paris! Aristophanes the grammarian was quite out. very mista enly imagine they have the same body and inside too. spea the same language I here write. which was only perspicuity of speech.reason why he should call it so. and a contempt of the artificial. The generality of readers. when he reprehended Epicurus for his plain way of delivering himself... whereas force and sinews are never to be borrowed. ii. that wholly attracts us to itself. words and elocution. and these are the best. by which they are to be had better cheap. Not that fine spea ing is not a very good and commendable quality. *(5) Let the language that is dedicated to truth be plain and unaffected. *(5) Quis accurate loquitur. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 110} *(3) Who by their fondness of some fine sounding word. particularly in the French gaiety and freedom. proceeds from a puerile and scholastic ambition. and in a monarchy every gentleman ought to be fashioned according to the court model. Zeno used to say. for which reason. one that he called philologous. and those of Crete to aim more at the fecundity of conception than the fertility of speech. I would first understand my own language. but not so excellent and so necessary as some would ma e it. ii. viii. is of a slower progress. which is yet observable amongst the young men of our time. and these were his favourites.Ibid. and of very great use. by its own facility. Acad. Quae veritati operam dat oratio.Seneca. * Cicero. Lat.Seneca. an easy and natural negligence does well. so delicate. and such may ma e use of it as will. The imitation of words. and that of my neighbours with whom most of my business and conversation lies. Epist. says Plato. *(4) That has most weight and wisdom which pierces the ear. I will here discover one way. and I am scandalized that our whole life should be spent in nothing else. And as in our outward habit. but I find this negligence of much better use in the form of spea ing. to wear my cloa on one shoulder. Epist. the gloss and outward ornament.. the Lacedaemonians affect brevity. The Athenians. logophilous. that cared for nothing but words. nisi qui vult putide loqui? *(6) That eloquence prejudices the subject it would advance. All affectation. but whether they thin the same thoughts I cannot say. No doubt but Gree and Latin are very great ornaments. are tempted to something they had no intention to treat of. that is. is ungraceful in a courtier. and the design of his oratory. but the imitation of inventing and fitly applying those words. may. and to affect words that are not of current use. I have ever been ready to imitate the negligent garb. that he had two sorts of disciples. Most of those I converse with. in Fabricus. so in language. *(2) Who do not fit words to the subject.Quintilian. that does not at the same time design to perplex his auditory?. curious to learn things. to study new phrases.Epitaph on Lucan.. I no more li e a web where the nots and seams are to be seen. Biblioth. immediately disperses itself through a whole people. for having found a li e robe. my cap on one side. that a man may tell all the bones and veins. study fulness and elegancy of spea ing. which seems to express a ind of haughty disdain of these exotic ornaments.. incomposita sit et simplex. than a fine figure. 'tis a ridiculous effeminacy to distinguish ourselves by a particular and unusual garb or fashion. which has been experimented in my own person. but see out for things quite from the purpose to fit the words. but we buy them too dear. a stoc ing in disorder..

but a new one. after the manner of those who. and a great critic in Latin. was by them cautioned of this inconvenience then in use. tossing our declensions to and fro. In short. have all of them often told me. and to snatch them violently and over-hastily from sleep (wherein they are much more profoundly involved than we). where there yet remain. which he was an observer of to such a degree.having made the most precise inquiry that any man could possibly ma e amongst men of the greatest learning and judgment. whipping. as also those of the servants did who were most frequently with me. George Buchanan. I do not. by that time. that it overflowed to all the neighbouring villages. several Latin appellations of artisans and their tools. for he was then tutor to that Count de Brissac who afterwards proved so valiant and so brave a gentleman. I had. that they were afraid to enter into discourse with me. by certain games at tables and chess. he caused me to be wa ened by the sound of some musical instrument. however. if I may say so. any more than Arabic. For he. who since died a famous physician in France. believe that to be the only cause. This man. and without art. that language so very fluent and ready. but such Latin words as every one had learned only to gabble with me. whom he had fetched out of his own country. that great Scotch poet. who wrote a comment upon Aristotle. or precept. it was an inviolable rule. As for what concerns myself. without any severity or constraint. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 115} As to Gree . man nor maid. and by way of sport. amongst other rules. and of my own voluntary motion. even of superstition. they gave it to others in French. However. If. the example of which he intended to ta e from mine. my domestic tutors. but to me they were to give it in bad Latin. my father and my mother by this means learned Latin enough to understand it perfectly well. that some being of opinion that it troubles and disturbs the brains of children suddenly to wa e them in the morning. and to relieve him. was the sole cause we could not arrive to the grandeur of soul and perfection of nowledge. had been advised to ma e me relish science and duty by an unforced will. of inferior learning. he committed me to the care of a German. and to spea it to such a degree as was sufficient for any necessary use. boo . And Nicholas Grouchy. It is not to be imagined how great an advantage this proved to the whole family. that neither himself. or the expense of a tear. and to educate my soul in all liberty and delight. but very fluent. the expedient my father found out for this was. who all of them spo e to me in no other language but Latin. that he was about to write a treatise of education. totally ignorant of our language. to turn it into that which was good. and Mar Antony Muret (whom both France and Italy have ac nowledged for the best orator of his time). they were to give me a theme after the college fashion. should spea anything in my company. that the tedious time we applied to the learning of the tongues of them who had them for nothing. of an exact method of education. I was above six years of age before I understood either French or Perigordin. and before I began to spea . William Guerente. nor my mother. for example. had me continually with him: to him there were also joined two others. whom I since saw attending the late Mareschal de Brissac. and made to believe. who wrote a boo De Comitiis Romanorum. that in my infancy. we Latined it at such a rate. for I had no means of mixing it up with any other. my father also designed to have it taught me by a devise. of the ancient Gree s and Romans. that I had in my infancy. grammar. that have established themselves by custom. and                                   . As to the rest of his family. and whom he entertained with a very great salary for this only end. And particularly Buchanan. learn geometry and arithmetic. to attend me. then told me. learned to spea as pure Latin as my master himself. of which I have but a mere smattering.

and under this heavy complexion nourished a bold imagination. Of this. incredible defect of memory. and opinions above my age. that with all these precautions it was a college still. a languishing invention. and then Terence. I had run through my whole course (as they call it). whereas had he been so foolish as to have ta en me off this diversion. For the chief things my father expected from their endeavours to whom he had delivered me for education. not even to get me out to play. Huon of Bordeaux. and such trumpery. as almost all our young gentlemen do. so that. li e those. suffered himself at last to be overruled by the common opinions. but so it was. and with them I was so ta en. were affability and good humour. who very well new discreetly to connive at this and other truantries of the same nature. the most accommodated to the capacity of my age: for. the good man being extremely timorous of any way failing in a thing he had so wholly set his heart upon. a tardy understanding. that would go no faster than it was led. and. The first thing that gave me any taste for boo s. And there it was not possible to add anything to the care he had to provide me the most able tutors. was the pleasure I too in reading the fables of Ovid's Metamorphoses. without any manner of advantage. that they could not rouse me from my sloth. that I came out of the college. it is no wonder. so that this new way of education served me to no other end. and indisposed. The fear was not that I should do ill. to have to do with an understanding tutor. I would steal from all other diversions to read them. for at thirteen years old. My Latin immediately grew corrupt. in truth. and. to say the truth. a sterile and improper soil. What I saw. my manners had no other vice but sloth and want of mettle. and here it was infinitely to my advantage. yet I was. and of a disposition tolerably sweet and tractable. which whetted my appetite to devour those boo s. who is not to be blamed if he did not reap fruits answerable to so exquisite a culture. that being but seven or eight years old. I had brought nothing away from the college but a hatred of boo s. and then Plautus.                           . so exact was the discipline wherein I was brought up. so heavy. than only at my first coming to prefer me to the first forms. and then some Italian comedies. in all this time. which children are most delighted with. and for the subject. Amadis of Gaul. this alone being sufficient to recommend both the prudence and the affection of so good a father. though I was of a strong and healthful constitution. which always follow their leader as a flight of cranes. seeming to ta e no notice. By this example you may judge of the rest. and complying with the method of the time. about him. and who had given him the first model of education. and allowing me only such time as I could steal from my other regular studies. two things were the cause: first. submit to all sorts of prescriptions and recipes. as for Lancelot of the La e. impatient of a long and steady cure. But this was enough to ma e me neglect the other lessons that were prescribed me.was never unprovided of a musician for that purpose. who. for by this means I ran through Virgil's Aeneid. But he carried himself very discreetly in that business. if from all these nothing considerable could be extracted. reserving also several particular rules contrary to the college practice. I saw clearly enough. he sent me at six years of age to the College of Guienne. withal. for. and above all. the easiest boo that I was acquainted with. both by reason that this was my own natural language. of which also by discontinuance I have since lost all manner of use. Secondly. that I can honestly brag of. I had never so much as heard their names. at that time the best and most flourishing in France. I had a slow wit. no more than I yet now what they contain. I do really believe. allured by the sweetness of the subject. having no more those persons he had brought out of Italy. idle. with all other circumstances of education.

and could give some to understand. when retired into itself. was. our principal. very often. Shall I here acquaint you with one faculty of my youth? I had great assurance of countenance. I do really believe. and with injustice those who refuse to admit such comedians as are worth seeing into our good towns. 'Tis an exercise that I do not disapprove in young people of condition. But they are unjust to exact from me what I do not owe. that I do not enough.. should thin it reasonable. {BK1_25 ^paragraph 120} -I played the chief parts in the Latin tragedies of Buchanan. digest them. the best of that employment in France. that were presented in our college of Guienne with great dignity. Guerente. that they are not so much offended. "Why has he ta en such a thing? Why has he not paid such a one?" but. they efface the gratification of the action. after the example of some of the ancients. but no malice.Virgil. solid and clear judgments about those objects it could comprehend. far more rigorously than they require from others that which they do owe. but also to sports and spectacles. can there possibly be allowed a more orderly and regular diversion than what is performed in the sight of every one. they foresaw idleness. not only to the solemn duties of devotion. now Andreas Goveanus. and I have since seen our princes. Aristoni tragico actori rem aperit: huic et genus et fortuna honesta erant: nec ars. nobody prognosticated that I should be wic ed. besides. but only useless. if I were good at setting out my own actions. as that I am able to do a great deal more than I do. and of myself the more I am my own. for my part. and deprive me of the gratitude that would be my due for it. out of paternal goodness and affection. ea deformabat.but that I should do nothing. and that in populous cities there should be theatres erected for such entertainments. and. and. in person handsomely and commendably perform these exercises. without any helps. too particular. viii.                 . They find society and friendship augmented by it. Nevertheless. and flexibility of voice and gesture. it had been totally impossible to have made it to submit by violence and force. and could also. cold in the offices of friendship and relation. but. peradventure. and in those of the public." But the most injurious do not say. that the prince should sometimes gratify his people at his own expense. quia nihil tale apud Graecos pudori est. and Muret. in the presence of the supreme magistrate himself? And I. in applying myself to any part I undertoo to act: for beforeAlter ab undecimo tum me vix ceperat annus. too disdainful. I can the more freely dispose of my fortune the more it is mine. "Why does he part with nothing? Why does he not give?" And I should ta e it for a favour that men would expect from me no greater effects of supererogation than these. without comparison. it was even allowed to persons of quality to ma e a profession of it in Greece. I could. and grudge the people that public diversion. by how much I have never been passive that way at all. Well-governed corporations ta e care to assemble their citizens. * * I had just entered on my twelfth year. In condemning me to it. as in all other parts of his charge. I have always taxed those with impertinence who condemn these entertainments. was not altogether without strong movements. * Nay. if but to divert them from worse and private actions. Yet for all this heavy disposition of mine. whereas the active well-doing ought to be of so much the greater value from my hands. amongst other things. Eclogues. and I was loo ed upon as one of the best actors. The complaints I hear of myself are these: "He is idle. and I find it falls out accordingly. my mind. very well repel these reproaches.

women. to simplicity and ignorance. though my curiosity has endeavoured that way.Cicero. Ut necesse est. Acad. hobgoblins. or any other story I had no mind to believe. without reason. ii. *(2) Dreams. ponderibus impositis. a man of a good family and fortune.. magic terrors. Somnia. deprimi. ii. If we give the names of monster and miracle to everything our reason cannot comprehend. {BK1_26 XXVI. Nocturnos lemures. and sic fol s. lancem in libra. *(2) * As the scale of the balance must give way to the weight that presses it down. and Thessalian prodigies. on the other hand.. at least. is the more easy to be impressed upon.* He imparted this affair to Aristo the tragedian. to do well. Epist. you give them their poc etful of learning to eep. *                                 . sorceries. is arrogantly and impiously to circumscribe and limit the will of God. And this is the reason that children. that we attribute facility of belief and easiness of persuasion. witchcrafts. which is the ordinary vice of such as fancy themselves wiser than their neighbours. by dint of the lash. which did neither of them receive any blemish by that profession. To return to my subject. terrores magicos. for I fancy I have heard belief compared to the impression of a seal upon the soul. which by how much softer and of less resistance it is.. Suspicere in coeli dignatur lucida templa. that I myself was to be pitied as much. you should not only lodge it with them. 'tis a foolish presumption to slight and condemn all things for false that do not appear to us probable.. xxiv. and if I heard tal of dead fol s wal ing. fessus saturusque videndi. that thus resolutely to condemn anything for false and impossible.Horace. not that experience has taught me anything to alter my former opinions.. with so much greater facility it yields under the weight of the first persuasion. our teachers lead us to the nowledge of most of the things about us. THAT IT IS FOLLY TO MEASURE TRUTH AND ERROR BY OUR OWN CAPACITY 'Tis not. than which no folly can be greater. miracula. assuredly we shall find that it is rather custom than nowledge that ta es away their strangeness{BK1_26 ^paragraph 5} Jam nemo. marvels. how many are continually presented before our eyes? Let us but consider through what clouds. enchantments. and as it were groping in the dar . as they. there is nothing li e alluring the appetite and affections. otherwise you ma e nothing but so many asses laden with boo s. of prophecies. but ma e them espouse it. whereas. sagas. I presently pitied the poor people that were abused by these follies. so the mind must of necessity yield to demonstration. and the power of our mother nature. I was myself once one of those. * By how much the soul is more empty and without counterpoise. perhaps. portentaque Thessala. within the bounds of my own capacity. but reason has instructed me. nothing of this ind being reputed a disparagement in Greece. Whereas I now find. But then. the common people.Livy. sic animum perspicuis cedere. are most apt to be led by the ears.

Lucretius. Nil magis his rebus poterat mirabile dici.. ei'st Qui non ante aliquem majorem vidit. and the greatest things that have fallen within our nowledge.Lucretius. vi. and so with other things. haec ingentia fingit. Did we rightly understand the difference betwixt the impossible and the unusual. Deor. if not more. a man. neque admirantur. *(2) * Things grow familiar to men's minds by being often seen. of authority enough to restrain us. homoque videtur. si sint objecta repente. *(2) * Weary of the sight. neque requirunt rationes earum rerum. we ought at least to leave them in suspense. a mighty stream. which. the same day that King Philip Augustus died at Mantes. if we cannot persuade ourselves absolutely to believe. King of Castile. Aut minus ante quod auderent fore credere gentes. and with greater ac nowledgement of our own ignorance and infirmity.. things they daily see.Cicero. tells us.. When we find in Froissart. and commanded the li e throughout Italy. et ingens Arbor. for. is by a temerarious presumption to pretend to now the utmost bounds of possibility. How many unli ely things are there testified by people worthy of faith. that the Count de Foix new in Bearn the defeat of John. We are to judge with more reverence. the news                             . ii.a tree. rather than the greatness of things.anything appears greatest of the ind that never new a greater. enjoined by Chilo. at Juberoth the next day after it happened. and betwixt that which is contrary to the order and course of nature. of the infinite power of nature. * The novelty. The sense of the passage is above. we may be allowed to be a little merry at it. tempts us to inquire into their causes. so that they neither admire. and the means by which he tells us he came to do so. we should observe the rule of Ne quid nimis. to condemn them as impossible. Aristotle in his Rhetoric. Si nunc primum mortalibus adsint Ex improviso. * besides several examples that he produces out of antiquity. *(2) Ibid. performed his public obsequies at Rome. and on the other hand. et omnia de genere omni Maxima quae vidit quisque. Scilicet et fluvius qui non est maximus. now no one deigns to loo up to heaven's lucid temples. nor are inquisitive about. the testimony of these authors not being. we should thin them as incredible. that Pope Honorius. But what if Plutarch. Consuetudine oculorum assuescunt animi. ii. {BK1_26 ^paragraph 15} *(2) Meden agan. quas semper vident. imagined the first he met with to be the sea. De Nat. and contrary to the common opinion of men. perhaps.. that in the time of Domitian. in not being too incredulous. ii. than any others. * * A little river seems to him who has never seen a larger river.-and that if those things were now newly presented to us. in not believing rashly. we conclude the extremes that nature ma es of the ind. {BK1_26 ^paragraph 10} He that had never seen a river. as also at what our annals report. he nows of certain nowledge.

a familiar friend of his. when they grant to their opponents some of the articles in question. a woman at Carthage cured of a cancer. learning. but generally and offhand to condemn all suchli e stories.of the battle lost by Antony in Germany. or totally throw off all obedience to it: 'tis not for us to determine what and how much obedience we owe to it. to have driven away the spirits that haunted his house. They fancy they appear moderate. to have recovered her sight. simplicity and facility. a paralytic to have there been suddenly cured by it. Hesperius. Protasius at Milan. in which of these excellences do any of us excel him? And yet there is scarce a young schoolboy that does not convict him of untruth. besides the absurd temerity it draws after it. I have found those same things to be built upon very good and solid ground and strong               . which seemed to me vain and strange: coming afterwards to discourse of it with learned men. Augustine * testifies to have seen a blind child recover sight upon the relics of St. a woman in a procession. of which I ma e less account. by the sign of the cross made upon her by a woman newly baptized. that these simple people have suffered themselves to be deceived with the vulgar. more sprightly. that having formerly ta en the liberty of my own swing and fancy. more clear. to contemn what we do not comprehend. judgment. shall we not say. That great St. being also transported thence into the church. to begin to give ground and to retire. according to your fine understanding. are sometimes of very great importance. When we read in Bouchet the miracles of St. piety. *(2) 'Tis a presumption of great danger and consequence. you are already obliged to quit your limits. than Pliny's judgment. and dispersed throughout the whole world. many days' journey from thence. We are either wholly and absolutely to submit ourselves to the authority of our ecclesiastical polity. or of malice and imposture? Is any man now living so impudent as to thin himself comparable to them in virtue. with several other miracles of which he professes himself to have been an eyewitness: of what shall we accuse him and the two holy bishops. Aemilius Paulus. Hilary's relics. and that pretends not to instruct him in the progress of the wor s of nature. that it has often happened. there appears a necessity upon you of believing stranger things than those you have contradicted. the same day it was fought. besides that they do not discern what advantage it is to those with whom we contend. having touched St. and that. that the report has preceded the incident. but. away with them: his authority is not sufficient to deprive us of the liberty of contradicting him. you have established the limits of truth and error. or any ind of perfection? Qui ut rationem nullam afferent. and rubbing her eyes with it. lost many years before. Stephen's shrine with a nosegay. Gervaise and St. and wise. that which seems to me so much to disorder our consciences in the commotions we are now in concerning religion. and if Caesar was of opinion. For after. afterwards. is the Catholics dispensing so much with their belief. seems to me a singular impudence. was published at Rome. with a little earth of the sepulchre of our Lord. for not having been so clear-sighted as we? Is there anything more delicate. both of whom he attests to the truth of these things? Shall it be of ignorance. ipsa auctoritate me frangerent. * Plutarch. and how much this animates our enemy to follow his blow: these articles which they select as things indifferent. and omitted or neglected certain rules of the discipline of our Church. And this I can say. as having myself made trial of it. Now. which earth. when he is pleased to set it to wor ? Anything more remote from vanity? Setting aside his learning. Aurelius and Maximinus.

the last prompts us to thrust our noses into everything. by chance. what are these things I scribble. but fall very short of him in the first and the better. I to whom. {BK1_26 ^paragraph 20} *(2) Who. And in truth. convince me with their sole authority. that it was the occasion of my first coming acquainted with him. In this second part I go hand in hand with my painter. De Art. He chooses the fairest place and middle of any wall. not without singular and merited commendation. made famous by our civil wars. and it has since run through the hands of men of great learning and judgment. we should have seen a great many rare things. too. I have therefore thought fit to borrow one of Estienne de la Boetie. that I dare to offer at a rich piece. with so affectionate a remembrance. But he has left nothing behind him. which he finishes with his utmost care and art. Quaes. coherence. and that nothing but stupidity and ignorance ma es us receive them with less reverence than the rest. and the vacuity about it he fills with grotesques. those who did not now him have properly enough called it Le contre Un. how many things were yesterday articles of our faith. made of various parts.foundation. He wrote in his youth by way of essay. though they should give me no reason for what they affirm. and such as would have gone very near to have rivalled the best writings of antiquity: for in natural parts especially. Why do we not consider what contradictions we find in our own judgments. the little boo of his only excepted. I now no man comparable to him. the other forbids us to leave anything doubtful and undecided. i. which are odd fantastic figures without any grace but what they derive from their variety. and such a one as shall honour and adorn all the rest of my wor . and the extravagance of their shapes. xxii. which I committed to the press. to commit his thoughts to writing. in honour of liberty against tyrants.. {BK1_27 XXVII. And yet one may confidently say it is far short of what he was able to do. or any other than accidental order. * * A fair woman in her upper form terminates in a fish's tail. a discourse that he called Voluntary Servitude. my power of handling not being such.Horace.Cicero. And this particular obligation I have to this treatise of his. finely polished. or panel. OF FRIENDSHIP HAVING considered the proceedings of a painter that serves me. or proportion? Desinit in piscem mulier formosa superne. for I believe he never saw it after it first went out of his hands). without any certain figure.. which also shall elsewhere.namely. save this treatise only (and that. I had a mind to imitate his way. for it is finely written. * City of God. peradventure. These were all I could recover of his remains. since. Poet. and set off according to art. for it was showed to me long before I had the good fortune to now him. wherein to draw a picture. and as full as anything can possibly be. he by his last will bequeathed his library and papers. Tusc. upon his deathbed. wherein I had the happiness to now him. but. and gave me the first                   . other than grotesques and monstrous bodies. and some observations upon that edict of January. find a place. and if in that more mature age. that to-day appear no other than fables? Glory and curiosity are the scourges of the soul. he had ta en a design li e this of mine.

That of children to parents is rather respect: friendship is nourished by communication. and who was himself descended from a family for many generations famous and exemplary for brotherly                   . There are some countries where 'twas the custom for children to ill their fathers. so long as God was pleased to continue us together. inviolate. which begets the true perfect friendships. public or private interest create and nourish. and design. lest it beget an indecent familiarity betwixt them. 'tis hardly possible. as to society. which is one of the principal offices of friendship. "for coming out of the same hole. that 'tis much. why is it necessary that the correspondence of manners. so much concurrence is required to the building of such a one. and so of brothers: he is my son. which cannot. Neither do the four ancient inds. as Aristippus for one. that certainly the li e is hardly to be found in story. by reason of the great disparity. Besides. who being pressed home about the affection he owed to his children." said he. "I ma e never the more account of him. and inclinations. be betwixt these. Not that I have not in my own person experimented all that can possibly be expected of that ind. ma e up a true and perfect friendship. and that other. and that the wealth of the one should be the poverty of the other. {BK1_27 ^paragraph 5} * Ethics. all those that pleasure. by how much these are friendships that the law and natural obligation impose upon us.nowledge of his name. he is my brother." This name of brother does indeed carry with it a fine and delectable sound. and fruit in friendship. and that we also breed worms and lice. or a fool. as being come out of him. and Aristotle says. to avoid their being an impediment one to another in life. social. should always meet in these relations? The father and the son may be of quite contrary humours. generally. There is nothing to which nature seems so much to have inclined us. and entire. having had the best and most indulgent father. There have been great philosophers who have made nothing of this tie of nature. if fortune bring it but once to pass in three ages. and others. presently fell to spit. so perfect. but they must of necessity often jostle and hinder one another. * that the good legislators had more respect to friendship than to justice. natural. where the fathers illed their children. for neither are all the secret thoughts of fathers fit to be communicated to children. that this also came out of him. venerian. And moreover. but would rather perhaps offend the duties of nature. and amongst the men of this age there is no sign nor trace of any such thing in use. saying. be properly performed by the son to the father. and naturally the expectations of the one depend upon the ruin of the other. strangely relax and wea en the fraternal tie: brothers pursuing their fortune and advancement by the same path. profit. nor can the advices and reproofs. proving the first cause and foundation of a friendship which we afterwards improved and maintained. whereas that voluntary liberty of ours has no production more promptly and properly its own than affection and friendship. even to his extreme old age. than itself. viii. that ever was. ill-natured. he and I called one another brothers: but the complication of interests. so much less is there of our own choice and voluntary freedom. are so much the less beautiful and generous. either separately or jointly. Now the most supreme point of its perfection is this: for. by how much they mix another cause. the division of estates. hospitable. but he is passionate. and for that reason. and so much the less friendships. that Plutarch endeavoured to reconcile to his brother.

al caldo. I confess. the entrance into which only is free. and the soul growing still more refined by practice.Horace. Ne piu l'estima poi che presa vede. besides that it is a covenant. who himself so confesses but too much in his verses. nor ran it with the others. al lito. to say truth. Moreover. The fire of this. Friendship. * Nor is the goddess un nown to me. * * And I myself noted for paternal love towards my brothers. though it be an act of our own choice. as having only a fleshly end. is enjoyed proportionably as it is desired. a fever subject to intermissions and paroxysms. fic le. so soon as it is ta en. it vanishes and is gone. 'tis a general and universal fire. and see the other flying at a far humbler pitch below. who mixes a pleasing sorrow with my love's flame. all gentle and smooth. and more sharp: but withal. is nourished and improves by enjoyment. x. the ordinary talent of women is not such as is sufficient to maintain the conference and communication required to             . * is more active. Under this perfect friendship. having another dependence than that of our own freewill. and only grows up.. and such a one as is subject to satiety. lxviii. {BK1_27 ^paragraph 15} *(2) As the hunter pursues the hare. and only delights in chasing that which flees from him. alla montagna. into comparison. but the continuance in it forced and compulsory. in love. there almost always happens a thousand intricacies in it to unravel.Catullus. enough to brea the thread and to divert the current of a lively affection: whereas friendship has no manner of business or traffic with aught but itself. that has seized but on one part of us. as with disdain to loo down. 'tis no other than frantic desire for that which flies from us: Come segue la lepre il cacciatore Al freddo. but. and never in any degree of comparison with one another. We are not here to bring the love we bear to women. Whereas in friendship... Od. ii. As concerning marriage. no longer cares for it. fruition destroys it.. without poignancy or roughness. 'tis more precipitant.Ariosto. on the contrary. a constant established heat. through cold and heat. the first maintaining its flight in so lofty and so brave a place. but always so. moving and inconstant. as being of itself spiritual. that I could myself well enough distinguish them. E sol dietro a chi fugge affretta il piede: *(2) so soon as it enters into the terms of friendship. so that I had both these passions. to say nothing of him. over hill and dale. and a bargain commonly contracted to other ends. {BK1_27 ^paragraph 10} Neque enim est dea nescia nostri Quae dulcem curis miscet amaritiem. but temperate and equal.concord: Et ipse Notus in fratres animi paterni. the other fleeting affections have in my younger years found some place in me. into a concurrence of desires. that is to say. more eager. Moreover.

an accidental and secondary matter: quite the contrary as to the lover. After this general community. in the loves of Achilles and Patroclus. the pursuit was suitably generous. which also. if it seized upon a low spirit. nor do they appear to be endued with constancy of mind. for it could not ground this love upon the soul. they strictly require in the person loved. prudence. that it was a love which ended in friendship. and conceive that nothing but the violence of tyrants and the baseness of the common people are inimical to it. from having. who was in the first flower and pubescency of his youth. This was the principal. and such trumpery. leisure and discretion in his pursuit. but the bodies also might share in the alliance. of difficult nowledge and abstruse discovery). contradict me. was but now springing. favour in advancement to dignities. the sovereign and most worthy part presiding and governing. given the lover's part to Achilles. namely. where not only the souls might have this entire fruition. a so necessary disparity of age and difference of offices betwixt the lovers. and a man be engaged throughout. which they by no means approve: if on a more generous soul. when I say. precepts to revere religion. For this reason they prefer the person beloved. they say. and. than the other: quis est enim iste amor amicitiae? cur neque deformem adolescentem quisquam amat. hoping by this mental society to establish a more firm and lasting contract. to obey the laws. but it is without example that this sex has ever yet arrived at such perfection. if without this.the support of this sacred tie. both by private and public concerns: that it constituted the force and power of the countries where it prevailed. that thence great utility was derived. the sight of which as yet lay concealed. Finally. the friendship would certainty be more full and perfect. to which they allow all the insolent and passionate efforts that an immoderate ardour can produce. maintaining that the gods in li e manner preferred him too. and the chiefest security of liberty and justice. that this first fury inspired by the son of Venus into the heart of the lover. by the common consent of the ancient schools. And doubtless. and the handsomest of all the Gree s. and very much blame the poet Aeschylus for having. answered no more to the perfect union and harmony that we here require. and not of maturity to blossom: that this fury. all that can be said in favour of the Academy is. as I conceive. forasmuch as he is to judge of an internal beauty. by philosophical instructions. that of his body being long since faded and decayed. Of which the salutiferous loves of Harmodius and Aristogiton are instances. then there sprung in the person loved the desire of a spiritual conception by the mediation of a spiritual beauty. neque formosum senem? * Neither will that very picture that the Academy presents of it. And therefore it is that they called it sacred and divine. the false image of corporal generation. When this courtship came to effect in due season (for that which they do not require in the lover. by examples of valour. the corporeal. according to their practice. and performing its proper offices. and justice. was simply founded upon external beauty. to die for the good of one's country. which well enough agrees with the Stoical definition of love: Amorem conatum esse amicitiae faciendae ex pulchritudinis specie. it is wholly rejected from it. the means by which it preferred its suit were rich presents. the lover studying to render himself acceptable by the grace and beauty of his soul. That other Grecian licence is justly abhorred by our manners. there could be such a free and voluntary familiarity contracted. upon sight of the flower and prime of a springing and blossoming youth. *(2) * For what is that love of friendship? why does no one love a         . to sustain the pinch of so hard and durable a not.

* Those are only to be reputed friendships. because it was I. I thin 'twas by some secret appointment of heaven. that from thenceforward nothing was so near to us as one another. et aetatibus. and by the characters we heard of one another.. in reason. Quaes. If a man should importune me to give a reason why I loved him. are nothing but acquaintance and familiarities. came to as Caius Blosius. so acquainted. more friends to one another than either friends or enemies to their country. that there is no more sign of the seam by which they were first conjoined. mere reports should do. by means of which there happens some little intercourse betwixt our souls. I find it could no otherwise be expressed. prosecuted all those who had had any familiarity with him also. which. vi. how much he would have done for him. saying. He wrote an excellent Latin satire. This has no other idea than that of itself. that require so many precautions of long preliminary conversation. However. nor a thousand.. When Laelius. {BK1_27 ^paragraph 20} I return to my own more just and true description. since printed. though he might still have retained the assurance he had of Gracchus' disposition. or a comely old man?. "But what if he had?" said Laelius. nor three. * For the rest. We sought one another long before we met. and so endeared betwixt ourselves. and the perfect nowledge he had of the man: they were more friends than citizens." "How! All things!" said Laelius. Omnino amicitiae. do not well understand the mystery. iv. nor were we tied to conform to the example of those slow and regular friendships.. who after they had sentenced Tiberius Gracchus. who was his chiefest friend. wherein he excuses the precipitation of our intelligence. that was either his or mine.. reserving nothing to ourselves. 'tis I now not what quintessence of all this mixture.                     . than by ma ing answer: because it was he. nor four. beyond all that I am able to say. there was yet no necessity of offending the consuls by such a bold confession. and can only refer to itself: this is no one special consideration. those who accuse this answer as seditious. et ingeniis. xx.Cicero. carried it to plunge and lose itself in his. nor presuppose. either occasionally contracted.Cicero." said the other. which wrought upon our affections more than. and he some years the older). De Amicit. that he had Gracchus' will in his sleeve. *(2) Love is a desire of contracting friendship arising from the beauty of the object. seizing my whole will. in the presence of the Roman consuls. we found ourselves so mutually ta en with one another. so suddenly come to perfection. "I would have obeyed him. brought it bac with equal concurrence and appetite to plunge and lose itself in mine. There is. and at our first meeting. or upon some design. they mix and wor themselves into one piece. that are fortified and confirmed by judgment and length of time. But in the friendship I spea of. I now not what inexplicable and fated power that brought on this union. and that he made answer: "All things. with so universal a mixture. corroboratis jam confirmatisque. as it was true. Tusc. or than friends to ambition and innovation. as begun so late (for we were both full-grown men." replied Blosius. that destined to have so short a continuance. If he was so perfect a friend to Gracchus. I may truly say lose.Ibid. judicandae sunt. nor two. We embraced in our names. which was accidentally at a great city entertainment.deformed youth. "And what if he had commanded you to fire our temples?" "He would never have commanded me that. there was no time to lose. and that having seized his whole will. as the histories report him to have been. both by the power of a friend. what we commonly call friends and friendships.

                                . in giving his friend the satisfaction of doing that towards him. wills. "O my friends. If any of their actions flew out of the handle. either held absolutely the reins of the other's inclination. but should certainly in any concern of mine have trusted my interest much more willingly with him. and suppose all this guided by virtue. inferring by that. If. though abominable in the sovereign and perfect friendship I spea of. as to the practice of the ordinary and customary ones. that all should belong to each of them. nor to themselves. as another. do not deserve so much as to be mentioned. is nevertheless very sound. honours." said Chilo. I have had as much experience of these. he that administers the occasion is the liberal man. being in effect common betwixt them. the receiver of the benefit would be the man that obliged his friend. good offices. presents. Our souls had drawn so unanimously together. deprives them of all idea of such duties. As to the rest. This is the reason why the lawgivers. for anything I relieve myself withal in time of need (whatever the Stoics say). benefit. what face soever it might bear. and benefits. children. you are to wal with bridle in your hand. and as I do not find myself obliged to myself for any service I do myself: so the union of such friends. and to which the saying that Aristotle had so frequent in his mouth. entreaty. that I would. and hate him so. obligation. ran other common friendships with such a one as this. 'Tis not in the power of all the eloquence in the world. no one action of his. of which I could not presently. for this expresses no consent to such an act. as if you were one day to hate him. and that they have nothing to divide or to give to each other. would you do it?" and that I should ma e answer. wives. and at first sight. they can neither lend nor give anything to one another. "so. find out the moving cause. and the li e. being truly perfect. there is no friend". In this noble commerce. Blosius' answer was such as it ought to be. and lives. and all this by the conduct of reason. than with myself. for in them the not is not so sure." This precept. for. to dispossess me of the certainty I have of the intentions and resolutions of my friend. may very fitly be applied. ac nowledgment. and the reason is the concurrence of our wills. that I not only new his as well as my own. and of the most perfect of their ind: but I do not advise that any should confound the rules of the one and the other. by which other friendships are supported and maintained. and that absolute concurrence of affections being no other than one soul in two bodies (according to that very proper definition of Aristotle). one could give to the other.having absolutely given up themselves to one another. All things. that a man may not half suspect it will slip. than mine would do to one that should as me: "If your will should command you to ill your daughter. they were neither (according to my measure of friendship) friends to one another. In those other ordinary friendships. with prudence and circumspection. and as little that of such a friend. receives no increase. to honour marriage with some resemblance of this divine alliance. opinions. thoughts. Let no one. could be presented to me. for they would find themselves much deceived. and ma es them loathe and banish from their conversation these words of division and distinction. than s. "Love him. they had considered each other with so ardent an affection. and with the li e affection laid open the very bottom of our hearts to one another's view. interdict all gifts betwixt man and wife. as the indness I have for myself. nay. forasmuch as I do not in the least suspect my own will. goods. this answer carries no worse sound. for each of them contending and above all things studying how to be useful to the other. in the friendship of which I spea . therefore. as you were one day to love him. which also without these it had not been possible to do.

moreover. if one thing were not to be objected. to confer them all upon this one object. and in one and the same day solemnized both their nuptials. and his two friends rich. tal they now not of what. he used to say. and many wills. than in that of Areteus. In short. and whether he would exchange him for a ingdom? "No truly. Charixenus. that has its li e. how would you disengage yourself? A unique and particular friendship dissolves all other obligations whatsoever: the secret I have sworn not to reveal to any other. to get thereby a true friend. to support and provide for her in her old age. but myself. and there rules and sways with an absolute sovereignty.which above all things he most desires. he leaves them heirs to this liberality of his. Nothing is extreme. I will here produce an ancient and singular example. multiplies into a confraternity the most single of units. that he has nothing left to distribute to others: on the contrary. he gave two and a half in marriage with an only daughter he had of his own. When the philosopher Diogenes wanted money. made themselves very merry at the contents: but the legatees being made acquainted with it." They who first saw this will. treble. and love me as much as I love them. the liberality of a third. 'Tis miracle enough certainly. dying within five days after. these are effects not to be imagined nor comprehended by such as have not experience of them. is sorry that he is not double. and to give her as good a portion as he is able. for Eudamidas. the force of friendship is more eminently apparent in this act of his. one may love the beauty of this person. "could I                       . sir. one alone is the hardest thing in the world to find. each one gives himself so entirely to his friend. and to Charixenus I bequeath the care of marrying my daughter. for a man to double himself. the good-humour of that. and Areteus a Corinthian. Eudamidas a Corinthian. namely. having the charge of both duties devolved solely to him. Charixenus a Sycionian. not that he demanded it. which consists in giving them the opportunity of conferring a benefit upon him. If two at the same time should call to you for succour. The rest of this story suits very well with what I was saying. I may without perjury communicate to him who is not another. to which of them would you run? Should they require of you contrary offices. Common friendships will admit of division. as a bounty and favour. "but I would give him with all my heart. I love one as much as the other. he nourished the old woman with very great care and tenderness. being poor. by that means. And to let you see the practical wor ing of this." said he. the paternal affection of a fourth. and those that tal of tripling. that they mutually love one another too. and one of them. or quadruple. cannot possibly admit of a rival. by whom being as ed how much he would ta e for a horse. and whereof. the fraternal love of a fifth. bequeaths to his friends a legacy of employing themselves in his necessity. I hereby substitute the survivor in his place. that he redemanded it of his friends. that of two. and Areteus." He did not say ill in saying. {BK1_27 ^paragraph 25} This example is very full. and which ma e me infinitely honour and admire the answer of that young soldier to Cyrus. and in case one of these chance to die. had two friends. this man coming to die. he made his will after this manner. could I find out any man worthy of that alliance. "I bequeath to Areteus the maintenance of my mother. and two and a half in marriage with the daughter of Eudamidas. and doubtless. that it were of importance to the other to now. how could you serve them both? Should one commit a thing to your silence. and that he has not many souls. accepted it with very great content. the multitude of friends: for the perfect friendship I spea of is indivisible. and of five talents he had in estate. with which he had won the prize of a race. and so of the rest: but this friendship that possesses the whole soul. and he who shall suppose.

do as you thin fit. and in this particular. than s be to God. whether or no there be sincerity in the case. having been contented with my natural and original commodities. in comparison of the sense I have of it. as he that was found astride upon a hobby-horse. that hold but by one end. that all the wards and springs be truly wrought. there will never be anything more acceptable to me than an agreeable friend. if he be a good coo . Sat. when I am to ta e a footman. especially if he spo e by experience: for in good earnest. * supposing that the fondness that would then possess his own soul. Heaut. *                         . an obscure and tedious night. and I am of the same indifference in the domestic acquaintance my servants must necessarily contract with me. di. in common discourse. the effects surpass even the precepts of philosophy.Horace. seem to me flat and poor. beauty before goodness. as if he be strong and able. 'tis nothing but smo e. For table-tal . if I compare all the rest of my life. free from any grievous affliction. nowing how remote a thing such a friendship is from the common practice. *(2) While I have sense left to me. and am not solicitous if my muleteer be given to gaming. though. I despair of meeting with any such judge. In confederations. i. without being solicitous after others. playing with his children. if he be chaste. and in great tranquillity of mind.find": for though one may almost everywhere meet with men sufficiently qualified for a superficial acquaintance. I do not ta e upon me to direct what other men should do in the government of their families (there are plenty that meddle enough with that). I say. * * This has been my way. yet in this. so I.. From the day that I lost him. could wish to spea to such as have had experience of what I say: though... i. face. I never inquire. For even these discourses left us by antiquity upon this subject. voluistis) habebo. ut opus est facto. and perfectly sure. would render him a fairer judge of such an action. but if he be diligent. and how rarely it is to be found. if I should compare it all. The ancient Menander declared him to be happy that had had the good fortune to meet with but the shadow of a friend: and doubtless he had good reason to say so. where a man is to deal from the very bottom of his heart. as for you. Quem semper acerbum Semper honoratum (sic. but only give an account of my method in my own. also. {BK1_27 ^paragraph 30} Nil ego contulerim jucundo sanus amico. the ablest spea er.Terence. Mihi sic usus est: tibi. with the four years I had the happiness to enjoy the sweet society of this excellent man. this consideration has nothing in common with the offices of friendship which they owe me. or if my coo be a swearer. we are only to provide against the imperfections that particularly concern that end. it will be requisite. Agesilaus. It can be of no importance to me of what religion my physician or my lawyer is. I have passed my time pleasantly enough. and the loss of such a friend excepted. And. entreated the person who had surprised him in that posture to say nothing of it till himself came to be a father. in bed. without any manner of reservation. I prefer the pleasant and witty before the learned and the grave. and at my ease.. *(2) * Plutarch.

instead of administering anything of consolation. I was so grown and accustomed to be always his double in all places and in all things.. is away. Tecum una tota est nostra sepulta anima: Cujus ego interitu tota de mente fugavi Haec studia. and to that degree. * * If that half of my soul were snatched away from me by an untimely stro e. at certe semper amabo. quid moror altera? Nec carus aeque. atque omnes delicias animi. double my affliction for his loss. Heaut. ii. that methin s. Thou dead. in thy life. There is no action or imagination of mine wherein I do not miss him.Aeneid. ta en from me miserable! with thee. My whole soul is buried with thee.. {BK1_27 ^paragraph 40} Illam meae si partem animae tulit Maturior vis. aut modus Tam cari capitis? * O misero frater adempte mihi! Omnia tecum una perierunt gaudia nostra. I have bidden adieu to the Muses. tantisper dum ille abest meus particeps. why should the other stay? That which remains will not be equally dear.. *(2) {BK1_27 ^paragraph 45} * What shame can there be.Horace. Dying. or measure. Tu mea. in lamenting so dear a friend?. so have you willed. ye gods. so long as he. I have only led a languishing life. will not be a whole: the same day will involve the destruction of both. I. We were halves throughout. my brother.. that methin s I am no more than half of myself.             . and the very pleasures that present themselves to me. all our joys have vanished. vita frater amabilior Aspiciam posthac. I defraud him of his part. Od. those joys which. v. so he also did in the duties of friendship.{BK1_27 ^paragraph 35} * A day to me for ever sad. i. frater. by outliving him.. for ever sacred. Quis desiderio sit pudor. as I now that he would have missed me: for as he surpassed me by infinite degrees in virtue and all other accomplishments. Quae tuus in vita dulcis alebat amor. thy dear love nourished.Horace. tu moriens fregisti commoda. hast destroyed all my happiness. *(2) O brother. thou. to all the studies which charmed my mind. nec superstes Integer? Ille dies utramque Duxit ruinam. Nec fas esse ulla me voluptate hic frui Decrevi. * * I have determined that it will never be right for me to enjoy any pleasure. Od. Alloquar? audiero nunquam tua verba loquentem? Nunquam ego te.. No more can I spea to thee. with whom I shared in all pleasures.Terence.

. for the honour will accrue to them. and with a mischievous design. nor suffer with such as could not come near hand to be acquainted with his principles.. but that I love thee while life shall endure. There never was a better citizen. without troubling themselves to thin whether they are li ely to improve it: and because they have mixed up his wor with some of their own performance. And be not jealous. he had a mind fashioned to the model of better ages. And for my part. very religiously to obey and submit to the laws under which he was born. from the same hand. lxviii. and that by way of exercise only. as a common theme that has been tumbled and tossed by a thousand writers. for. as also. and ma e so good use of it as you do. But in exchange of this serious piece. and enflamed with a noble ardour that one of these days I will tell you. I here give them to understand that it was written by him in his boyhood.Catullus. I conceive this present. both by reason there are few ladies in France who are so good judges of poetry. and he had reason. being so conscientious that he would not so much as lie in jest: and I moreover now.. madam. that Gascony never yielded more invention. and will agree with me in this. in your ear.. madam. may carry your name in the front. madam. NINE-AND-TWENTY SONNETS OF ESTIENNE DE LA BOETIE To Madame De Grammont. nor a greater enemy to all the commotions and innovations of his time: so that he would much rather have employed his talent to the extinguishing of those civil flames. these have something in them more sprightly and luxuriant. But that the memory of the author may not be injured. under the patronage of Monsieur de Foix. that there is none who can give it the spirit and life that you can. and written at the same age. Never again shall I see thee. Because I have found that that wor has been since brought out. Nought remains. either because it is already yours. when he was a suitor for marriage. that could it have been in his own choice. I have refrained from inserting it here. But let us hear a boy of sixteen spea . more affectionate to his country. I will present you with another of a more gay and frolic air. into what part of the world soever they may travel. But he had another maxim sovereignly imprinted in his soul. that these verses deserve your esteem. as being written in a greener youth.{BK1_28 XXVIII. your worthy insman. or because I find nothing in my writings worthy of you: but I have a great desire that these verses. I ma e no question but that he himself believed what he wrote. than have added any fuel to them. by having the great Corisande d'Andoins for their safe-conduct. finer expression. or that more evidence themselves to flow from a master hand. I offer to your ladyship nothing of mine.                   . I am of the same opinion with those who hold that poesy appears nowhere so gay as in a wanton and irregular subject. The others were written later. You will find. Comtesse De Guissen MADAM. that you have but the remainder of what I published some years since. by that rich and incomparable voice nature has added to your other perfections.   no more hear thy voice. he had rather have been born at Venice than at Sarlac. and in honour of his wife. certainly. and already relishing of I now not what matrimonial coldness. so much the more proper for you. by those who aim at disturbing and changing the condition of our government. O brother dearer to me than life.

even though it does not offend. who was the first instructor of her son's process. we. * In the Gorgias. and threw the first stone towards his death. as it ought to be. and that costs so dear. that. Neither the mother of Pausanias. i. only play upon words: Insani sapiens nomen ferat. I love temperate and moderate natures. unfit either to assist others or to relieve himself. astonishes me. An immoderate zeal.. even to that which is good. A man may both be too much in love with virtue. Thomas Aquinas. a contemner of religion and the common laws. an enemy to civil conversation and all human pleasures. Be not wiser than you should. for if the conjugal affection be full and perfect betwixt them. and to loo down into a dar abyss.Horace. that there is some danger. will have their say in everything: there is no action so private and secret that can escape their inspection and jurisdiction. whom the ardour of youth had successfully pushed upon the enemy a little more advanced than the rest of his squadron. if we embrace it too stringently and with too violent a desire. I have read in one place of St.{BK1_29 XXIX. but be soberly wise. This is a subtle consideration of philosophy.. it renders a man brutish and vicious. by our manner of handling.                   . As I remember. The archer that shoots over. it is pleasant and useful. {BK1_29 ^paragraph 5} The love we bear to our wives is very lawful. for this reason. I have nown a great man prejudice the opinion men had of his devotion. and be excessive in a just action. and. where he condemns marriages within any of the forbidden degrees. and I should neither advise nor li e to follow so savage a virtue. by an impertinent subtlety. forasmuch as it is not virtue when it once becomes excess. and 'tis equally troublesome to my sight to loo up at a great light. if he see to carry his love for wisdom or virtue beyond that which is necessary. but such an addition will carry the husband beyond the bounds of reason. misses as much as he that falls short. and puts me to study what name to give it. OF MODERATION AS IF we had an infectious touch. who put his son to death. should be immoderate. that the extremity of philosophy is hurtful. divinity and philosophy. ta en moderately. lest the friendship a man bears to such a woman. corrupt things that in themselves are laudable and good: we may grasp virtue so that it becomes vicious. there is no doubt. He says true. amongst others. Callicles in Plato * says. and a fit object for all sorts of injuries and affronts. leads us out of the fair and beaten way that nature has traced for us. Those sciences that regulate the manners of men. and advises not to dive into it beyond the limits of profit. incapable of all public administration. Epist. and that it be over and above surcharged with that of indred too. * * The wise man is no longer wise. the just man no longer just. appear to me altogether as strange. virtutem si petat ipsam. but that in the end. Ultra quam satis est. aequus iniqui. by pretending to be devout beyond all examples of others of his condition. Holy Writ agrees with this. Those who say there is never any excess in virtue. nor Posthumius the dictator. for in its excess. it enslaves our natural freedom. and yet theology thin s fit to curb and restrain it.

but granted it at the first word to a wench of his. Those immodest and debauched tric s and postures. "That might be very well. seeing accidentally a fine boy pass by: "O what a charming boy is that!" said he. who are best able to control and curb their own liberty: women expose their nudities as much as you will upon the account of pleasure. he threw her upon the floor. and mixed with a certain ind of gravity. forasmuch as marriage was a name of honour and dignity. chaste. and not till after that would again receive him: a brave and generous example of conjugal continence. {BK1_29 ^paragraph 10} The ings of Persia were wont to invite their wives to the beginning of their festivals. that not having so much patience as till she could get to the couch. with those who are in their courses. and that a licentious and riotous abuse of them. amongst others) abominate all conjunction with women with child.this lesson. too. Epaminondas had committed to prison a young man for certain debauches. with whom they were not obliged to so great a decorum of respect. whether when men are out of hopes of that fruit. though in the necessities of physic they are altogether as shy. that the very pleasures they enjoy in the society of their wives are reproachable if immoderate. and therefore the pleasure we extract from it should be a sober and serious delight. that is. un nown to their parents. saying. that at his request he might be set at liberty. It was doubtless from some lascivious poet. the emperor. after which she left him to his own swing for the whole time of her conception. as when they are superannuated or already with child. Iliad. in their behalf teach the husbands. but not for a captain. they sent them bac to their private apartments. * Certain nations (the Mohammedan. answered his wife. who ought not only to have his hands. xiv." Aelius Verus. according to Plato.if such there still be. Sophocles being joint praetor with Pericles. not of wanton and lascivious desire. that they might not participate in their immoderate lust. that it was a gratification fit for such a one as she. Let them at least learn impudence from another hand. others also. some ma e a question. sending for other women in their stead. And seeing that the chief end of it is generation. for whom Pelopidas mediated. but when the wine began to wor in good earnest. it should be a sort of discreet and conscientious pleasure." answered Pericles. Marriage is a solemn and religious tie. that made the same intercession. All pleasures and all sorts of gratifications are not properly and fitly conferred upon all sorts of persons. *(2) Homer. are not only indecently but detrimentally practised upon our wives. in his celestial council. who reproached him with his love to other women. Zenobia would never admit her husband for more than one encounter. which Epaminondas denied to him. therefore. it be lawful to embrace our wives: 'tis homicide. * Laws. and our                   . but his eyes. and that they were to give the reins to pleasure. and I for my part always went the plain way to wor . and to brag that he had had as good a bout. *(2) and one that himself was in great distress for a little of this sport. is a fault as reprovable here as in illicit connections. they are ever ready enough for our business. I will. viii. "for any other than a praetor.They are best taught. such as are too vehement in the exercise of the matrimonial duty. that the first ardour suggests to us in this affair. that Plato borrowed this story: that Jupiter was one day so hot upon his wife. as when he got her maiden-head. where the vehemence of pleasure made him forget the great and important resolutions he had but newly ta en with the rest of the gods. that he did it upon a conscientious account.

as by compact betwixt themselves. Fortunae miseras auximus arte vias. And still. notwithstanding that both our spiritual and corporal physicians. and to him to whose palate fish were more acceptable than flesh. I should have ta en another and more natural course which. he is not yet wretched enough. when she exercises it in rescinding from the number and sweetness of those pleasures that are naturally our due. in comparison of ours. Annal. and that what had been enjoined him for a penance. Human wisdom ma es as ill use of her talent. no more than in the other sort of physic. in his power to taste one pleasure pure and entire. which are pure and virgin yet. by his natural condition. vi. This belief a little resembles that other so ancient one. nor other remedy for the infirmities of the body and the soul. and here the common rule. In fine. perpetual imprisonments. would frustrate the use and virtue of it. and not fall out as it once did to one Gallio. it must be something to trouble and disturb the stomach. to say the truth. the prescription of these would have no curative effect. who having been sent an exile into the isle of Lesbos. and confine him to his own house. is not man a most miserable creature the while? It is scarce. The nature that would eat rhubarb li e buttered turnips. and be real afflictions indeed. than by misery and pain. who parted from her husband because she would not comply with his indecent and inordinate desires. this practice is in some measure                   .Propertius.ecclesiastical history preserves the memory of that woman in great veneration. To this end. * * We artificially augment the wretchedness of fortune. remote and solitary banishments. and yet must he be contriving doctrines and precepts to curtail that little he has. that he there lived as merry as the day was long. as she employs it favourably and well. But. where drugs have no effect upon him who swallows them with appetite and pleasure: the bitterness of the potion and the abhorrence of the patient are necessary circumstances to the operation. is both commodious and holy. in the nature of a propitiatory sacrifice for his sins. news was not long after brought to Rome. he augment his own misery. unless by art and study. Had I ruled the roast. have been able to have limited it too. in artificially disguising and tric ing out the ills of life. watchings. can find no other way to cure. that they should carry a sting with them. fastings. peradventure. * For to him whom fasting would ma e more healthful and more sprightly. and should. iii. to spea the truth. {BK1_29 ^paragraph 15} * Tacitus. Amurath at the ta ing of the Isthmus. whips and other afflictions. fails.. whereupon the Senate thought fit to recall him home to his wife and family. of thin ing to gratify the gods and nature. turned to his pleasure and satisfaction. for in this. And in those new countries discovered in this age of ours. in these later times wherein our fathers lived. there is no pleasure so just and lawful.. where intemperance and excess are not to be condemned. hair-shirts. one ill is cured by another. to accommodate their punishment to his feeling and apprehension. that things are cured by their contraries. to alleviate the sense of them. that must purge and cure it. immolated six hundred young Gree s to his father's soul. have been introduced amongst men: but so. by massacre and murder: an opinion universally once received in all religions.

and we will bring thee more. ta e these fowls and these fruits that we have brought thee. * telling a story that he had heard from the priests of Sais in Egypt. they flay alive. but principally. The ambassadors of the King of Mexico. off the coals to tear out their hearts and entrails. that he was obliged yearly to offer to the gods fifty thousand men. even women. for the welcome of the said Cortez. there was a great island called Atlantis. and not from common report. I will tell you this one tale more. not without various examples of horrid cruelty: some they burn alive. but the disposition of this army. but if thou art a man. old men. and that we have more curiosity than capacity. Neither are we without great examples of constancy and resolution in this affair: the poor souls that are to be sacrificed. and ta e. that I see. themselves going about some days before to beg alms for the offering of their sacrifice. I am afraid our eyes are bigger than our bellies. whose messengers carried him three sorts of gifts. and children. has nothing of barbarism in it. having viewed and considered the order of the army the Romans sent out to meet him: "I now not. singing and dancing with the spectators. And it is affirmed. and to treat with him of a peace. that he maintained a continual war. which they presented in these terms: "Behold. of whom each was able to raise an hundred thousand fighting men. here are five slaves: if thou art a furious god that feedeth upon flesh and blood. OF CANNIBALS When King Pyrrhus invaded Italy. sent to ac nowledge him. with some potent neighbouring nations. some. *(2) and Philip. situate directly at the mouth of                             . some of these people being beaten by him. Flaminius. but catch nothing but wind. By which it appears how cautious men ought to be of ta ing things upon trust from vulgar opinion. that of old. if thou art an affable god. and that he ept his court in the fairest and best fortified city under the sun. and in that part of it where Villegaignon landed. that hereafter there may not be another. spa e to the same effect. half broiled." {BK1_30 XXX. Plato brings in Solon. and that we are to judge by the eye of reason. women. and before the Deluge. to have wherewithal to furnish his sacrifices with his prisoners of war. added at last. and with their bloody s ins clothe and disguise others. after having told him." (for so the Gree s called all other nations) "these may be. At a certain town in another place. not only to eep the young men in exercise. "what ind of barbarians. and I have done. so many wiser men than we having been deceived in this. eat these.everywhere received: all their idols ree with human blood. I cannot be sure. which he called Antarctic France. discovered in these latter days." said he. that he had thirty vassals. lord." * As much said the Gree s of that which Flaminius brought into their country. This discovery of so vast a country seems to be of very great consideration. behold here incense and feathers. for we grasp at all. setting out to Fernando Cortez the power and greatness of their master. * Plutarch. beholding from an eminence the order and distribution of the Roman camp formed in his ingdom by Publius Sulpicius Galba. presenting themselves to the slaughter. I long had a man in my house that lived ten or twelve years in the New World. they sacrificed fifty men at once. *(2) Idem. Pyrrhus.

{BK1_30 ^paragraph 5} * In Timaeus. In Medoc. It is very li ely that this extreme irruption and inundation of water made wonderful changes and alterations in the habitations of the earth. quum protenus utraque tellus Una foret.the Straits of Gibraltar. to have tumbled bac so prodigious a mass. attempted to encroach even upon Asia. as there are in ours. But there is no great appearance that this isle was this New World so lately discovered: for that almost touched upon Spain. my brother. sometimes beating against the one side.. that they have lost above four leagues of land. as far as the Blac Sea. as 'tis said that the sea then divided Sicily from Italy: Haec loca. and extending in Europe to Tuscany. which contained more countries than both Africa and Asia put together. or. that it none the more deserves the name of an island for that. and Italy. if it be separate from them. The inhabitants of this place affirm. But rivers alter their course. and with the lands under the two poles on the other side. it is by so narrow a strait and channel. It should seem. I do not spea of sudden inundations. * {BK1_30 ^paragraph 10} * These lands. and the other febrific. and that the ings of that country. and to that effect overran all Spain. once with violence and vast desolation convulsed. the causes of which everybody understands. and sometimes quietly eeping the channel. aptaque remis. et grave sentit aratrum. sees an estate he had there. who not only possessed that isle. and to subjugate all the nations that border upon the Mediterranean Sea. that in this great body. and undermined the foundations of so many houses. buried under the sands which the sea vomits before it: where the tops of some houses are yet to be seen. the Sieur d'Arsac. and elsewhere united lands that were separate before. and that in twenty years it has gained so much. there are two sorts of motions. both the Athenians. and continent with the East Indies on the one side. Vicinas urbes alit. et vasta convulsa ruina. and it were an incredible effect of an inundation. by the sea-shore. These sands are her harbingers: and we now see great heaps of moving               . burst asunder. which erewhile were one. above twelve hundred leagues: besides that our modern navigators have already almost discovered it to be no island. and sometimes the other. and where his rents and domains are converted into pitiful barren pasturage. When I consider the impression that our river of Dordoigne has made in my time. iii. were swallowed by the Flood. but terra firma. * Cyprus from Syria. or were hereafter to do it. the isle of Negropont from the continent of Boeotia. on the right ban of its descent.Aeneid. Dissiluisse ferunt. and they and their island. so far as to penetrate into Greece. I perceive it to be an extraordinary agitation: for had it always followed this course. the Gauls. by filling up the channel betwixt them with sand and mud: Sterilisque diu palus. the aspect of the world would be totally changed. the one natural. that of late years the sea has driven so vehemently upon them. but extended their dominion so far into the continent that they had a country of Africa as far as Egypt. they say. where the Athenians stopped them: but that some time after. vi quondam.

I find that there is nothing barbarous and savage in this nation. they never represent things to you simply as they are. as to other things. and that they. We should have topographers to trace out to us the particular places where they have been. we have no other level of truth and reason. and diverted from the common order. and that not in this only. and to gain the reputation of men of judgment. but for having had this advantage over us. of their own invention. far remote from all terra-firma. we should either have a man of irreproachable veracity. or so simple that he has not wherewithal to contrive. having crossed the Atlantic Sea without the Straits of Gibraltar. or as they would have them appear to you. But this relation of Aristotle no more agrees with our new-found lands than the other. for such a person may have some particular nowledge and experience of the nature of such a river. and yet to eep a clutter with this little pittance of his. if that little boo of Unheard-of miracles be his. indeed. They are savages at the same rate that we say fruits are wild. In those. and also drove out these new inhabitants. But the senate of Carthage perceiving their people by little and little to diminish. that certain Carthaginians. lest in process of time they should so multiply as to supplant themselves and ruin their state. and discover a great deal more. allured by the goodness and fertility of the soil. but no more. all covered over with wood. which nature produces of herself and by her own ordinary progress. excepting. at least. that every one gives the title of barbarism to everything that is not in use in his own country. nows no more than what everybody does. and besides. issued out an express prohibition. they would have the privilege. Now. whereas in truth. and the better to induce your faith. and occupy the land. should transport themselves thither. but in all other subjects. who. but then they gloss upon it. is in Aristotle. to return to my subject. 'tis true. and as much as he nows. and who can have no ends in forging an untruth. and others after them. by anything that I can gather. will underta e to write the whole body of physics: a vice from which great inconveniences derive their original. there the most exact and accomplished usage of all things. and to give a colour of truth to false relations. Such a one was mine. {BK1_30 ^paragraph 15} Now. This man that I had was a plain ignorant fellow. there the perfect government. went thither with their wives and children. whose natures we have changed by our artifice. 'tis said. than the example and idea of the opinions and customs of the place wherein we live: there is always the perfect religion. are willing to help out the business with something more than is really true. forsooth. As. to which some would apply this discovery of the New World. or such a fountain.sand. most useful and natural virtues and properties are vigorous and sprightly. and to give the greater weight to what they deliver and allure your belief. the genuine. fearing. he has at divers times brought to me several seamen and merchants who at the same time went the same voyage. and sailed a very long time. we ought rather to call those wild. I shall therefore content myself with his information. they cannot forbear a little to alter the story. discovered at last a great and fruitful island. He there tells us. but rather as they appeared to them. I would have every one write what he nows. that none. and began to plant a colony. to tell us stories of all the other parts of the world besides. without inquiring what the cosmographers say to the business. in this case. which we have helped to                 . The other testimony from antiquity. and watered with several broad and deep rivers. and therefore the more li ely to tell truth: for your better bred sort of men are much more curious in their observation. upon pain of death. that march half a league before her. to have seen the Holy Land.

as we by experience see to be in them. * are produced either by nature.. and that they were not discovered in those better times. however.Seneca. no science of numbers. yet in other places. moreover. no employments.degenerate in these. Georg. * Hos natura modos primum dedit. I am sorry that Lycurgus and Plato had no nowledge of them. *(2) * Men fresh from the gods. i.. where she shines in her own purity and proper lustre.. the arbutus best in shady caves. but those of leisure. govern them still. And yet for all this. no respect of indred. beauty. no nowledge of letters. -           . ii. so native and so pure a simplicity. We have so surcharged her with the additional ornaments and graces we have added to the beauty and riches of her own wor s by our inventions. as having received but very little form and fashion from art and human invention. Et volucres nulla dulcius arte canunt. she marvellously baffles and disgraces all our vain and frivolous attempts. no properties. Et veniunt hederae sponte sua melius. dissimulation. pardon. what we now see in those nations. How much would he find his imaginary Republic short of his perfection? Viri a diis recentes. or by art. no successions. no name of magistrate or political superiority. and all their inventions in feigning a happy state of man. could never enter into their imagination. that I am sometimes troubled we were not sooner acquainted with these people. Neither is it reasonable that art should gain the pre-eminence of our great and powerful mother nature. does not only surpass all the pictures with which the poets have adorned the golden age. the least and the most imperfect by the last. * The ivy grows best spontaneously. All things. and consequently to be not much remote from their original simplicity. for to my apprehension. in several fruits wherein those countries abound without art or culture. no agriculture. nor could they ever believe that human society could have been maintained with so little artifice and human patchwor . but common. its contexture. the greatest and most beautiful by the one or the other of the former. excellent even to emulation of the best of ours. that it is a nation wherein there is no manner of traffic. Our utmost endeavours cannot arrive at so much as to imitate the nest of the least of birds. by fortune. no contracts. detraction. The laws of nature. the fancy and even the wish and desire of philosophy itself. no use of service.Virgil. treachery. never heard of. envy. no use of corn or wine.Propertius. Epist. our taste confesses a flavour and delicacy. says Plato. not as yet much vitiated with any mixture of ours: but 'tis in such purity. when there were men much more able to judge of them than we are. no dividends. Surgit et in solis formosior arbutus antris. by accommodating them to the pleasure of our own corrupted palate. no metal. and the wild notes of birds are sweeter than art can teach. I should tell Plato. riches or poverty. *(2) These were the manners first taught by nature. no clothing. and convenience: not so much as the web of a poor spider. {BK1_30 ^paragraph 20} These nations then seem to me to be so far barbarous. the very words that signify lying. avarice. but. that we have almost smothered her.

and several times repeating the same sentence. They shave all over. wal ing from the one end of the house to the other. that have no resemblance to those of ours: which they eat without any other coo ery. The fashion of their beds. bris taste. that they never saw any of the natives. of which the coverings hang down to the very ground. in the morning before they fall to eating. li e some of our barns. but a very pleasant beverage to such as are accustomed to it. so that. and sometimes to a rousing pitch. eat for all day. laxative to strangers. exhorting them to virtue and their duty: but all their ethics are comprised in these two articles. and leaning to and supporting one another. but very comfortable to the stomach. and of capacity to hold two or three hundred people. 'tis rare to hear of a sic person. than plain boiling. who very rarely present themselves to the people. as Suidas reports of some other people of the East that never dran at their meals. Their buildings are very long. for their houses are at least a hundred yards long. when they go to fight. having about a hundred leagues in breadth between. by the sound of which they eep the cadence of their dances. made of the bar s of tall trees.As to the rest. as I have described. roasting and broiling. that they cut with it.                                                     . Valour towards their enemies and love towards their wives. Their drin is made of a certain root. are the two heads of his discourse. The situation of their country is along the sea-shore. there is a great feast. li e our seaman's hammoc s. instead of bread. and solemn assembly of many villages: each house. or croo ed with age. Their beds are of cotton. The first that rode a horse thither. at the top. and ma e their swords of it. and so soon as they are up. and they moreover assure me. and amongst others. and is of the colour of our claret. and of the great canes. that 'tis their wives who provide them their drin warm and well seasoned. and much more neatly than we. preaches to the whole family. li e Coriander comfits. at my house. reared with one end upon the ground. that they illed him with their arrows before they could come to discover who he was. ropes. is nothing heady. toothless. This prophet declaims to them in public. Their young men go a-hunting after wild beasts with bows and arrows. are to be seen in several places. bored hollow at one end. are lodged in that part of heaven where the sun rises. either paralytic. and serves for the side walls. never failing in the close. to put them in mind. I have tasted of it. and their grills of it to broil their meat. though in several other voyages he had contracted an acquaintance and familiarity with them. of a certain white compound. as my witnesses inform me. it has a somewhat sharp. and that those who have merited well of the gods. ma es a village. They rise with the sun. {BK1_30 ^paragraph 25} They have I now not what ind of priests and prophets. till he has finished the round. and they are about a French league distant from one another. one part of their women are employed in preparing their drin the while. for the wives lie apart from their husbands. It will not eep above two or three days. without other razor than one of wood or stone. swords. They believe in the immortality of the soul. every man his own. and the accursed in the west. and they never drin it but lu ewarm. At their arrival. enclosed on the other side towards the land. and of the wooden bracelets they tie about their wrists. for they have no more meals but that: they do not then drin . The whole day is spent in dancing. they live in a country very pleasant and temperate. with his centaur appearance. but drin very often all day after. One of their old men. with great and high mountains. blear-eyed. They ma e use. the taste is sweet and a little flat. put them into so terrible a fright. hung swinging from the roof. They have wood so hard. They have great store of fish and flesh. which is their chief employment. having their abode in the mountains.

for if he fail in his divination. Chrysippus and Zeno. are excusable in doing the best they can: but those other fellows that come to delude us with assurances of an extraordinary faculty. eat him amongst them. they began to leave their old way. in roasting it by degrees. ought they not to be punished. he holds the one end himself. and condemned for a false prophet: for that reason.resolution in war. but that. the two heads of the Stoic sect. they were laid. in tearing a body limb from limb by rac s and torments. if any of them has been mista en. After that they roast him. beyond their mountains. Amongst the Scythians. at a distance. that is yet in perfect sense. of which. than when he is dead. They do not do this. and anything happen otherwise than he has foretold. and who were much greater masters in all sorts of mischief than they) did not exercise this sort of revenge without a meaning. in the presence of all the assembly. fashioned at one end li e the heads of our javelins. They have continual war with the nations that live further within the mainland. and then to hang them. they thought those people of the other world (as being men who had sown the nowledge of a great many vices amongst their neighbours. we should be so blind to our own. despatch him with their swords. They being come. seeing so clearly into their faults. for nourishment. which is worse. he is cut into a thousand pieces. he to whom the prisoner belongs. they two. they now not what it is. He also prophesies to them events to come. to shoot at the remaining part till it was stuc full of arrows. and drawn by oxen. were of opinion that there was no hurt in ma ing use of our dead carcasses. and send some chops to their absent friends. if he be caught. as will appear by this: that having observed the Portuguese. as the Scythians anciently did. and they never end without great effusion of blood: for as to running away. After having a long time treated their prisoners very well. which being done. Every one for a trophy brings home the head of an enemy he has illed. in                               . to which they go na ed. but as a representation of an extreme revenge. The obstinacy of their battles is wonderful. which he fixes over the door of his house. upon carts loaded with furze and bavins. I am not sorry that we should here ta e notice of the barbarous horror of so cruel an action. * Such as only meddle with things subject to the conduct of human capacity. and to follow this. and that it must needs be more painful than theirs. to inflict another sort of death upon any of them they too prisoners. and therefore to abuse it. but amongst neighbours and fellow-citizens. and given them all the regales they can thin of. and for the temerity of their imposture? * Herodotus. ought to be a punishable imposture. iv. when they do not ma e good the effect of their promise. and the issues they are to expect from their enterprises. I conceive there is more barbarity in eating a man alive. invites a great assembly of his friends. and gives to the friend he loves best the other arm to hold after the same manner. bound hand and foot. not amongst inveterate and mortal enemies. Divination is a gift of God. in causing it to be bitten and worried by dogs and swine (as we have not only read. on which they were burned to death. but lately seen. beyond our understanding. and prompts them to or diverts them from war: but let him loo to't. he ties a rope to one of the arms of the prisoner. which was to set them up to the girdle in the earth. and. who were in league with their enemies. he is no more heard of. than to roast and eat him after he is dead. and affection to their wives. where their diviners failed in the promised effect. under colour of piety and religion). and without other arms than their bows and wooden swords. out of his reach. as some thin .

and other persons who were incapable of bearing arms. tyranny.what way soever for our necessity. to obtain this advantage that they were terrified. resolved to sustain the famine of the siege with the bodies of their old men. We may then call these people barbarous. and of the feast that is to be made. but presently return into their own country. or either by word or loo . is superfluous to them: men of the same age call one another generally brothers. They use them with all liberality and freedom. to now happily how to enjoy their condition and to be content. alimentis talibus usi Produxere animas. who being besieged by Caesar in the city of Alexia. as to supply them without labour or concern. or other title than what nature bestows upon her creatures. without any manner of division. of the torments they are to suffer. where their carcass is to be the only dish. or to frighten them so as to ma e them run away.Juvenal. xv. as that human malady is capable of. those who are younger. of the preparations ma ing in order to it.. it is in this point only that a true victory consists. disloyalty. they demand of their prisoners no other ransom. and that their constancy was sha en. Their disputes are not for the conquest of new lands. to the end their lives may be so much the dearer to them. Their wars are throughout noble and generous. and the advantage of having proved themselves the better in valour and virtue: for they never meddle with the goods of the conquered. Sat. of the mangling their limbs. or to give it inwardly for the health of the patient. in such abundance that they have no need to enlarge their borders. that they only covet so much as their natural necessities require: all beyond that. who in all sorts of barbarity exceed them. recede from the entire grandeur of an invincible courage. than ac nowledgment that they are overcome: but there is not one found in an age. if rightly ta en. But there never was any opinion so irregular. If their neighbours pass over the mountains to assault them. ut fama est. and carry as much excuse and fair pretense. * * No victory is complete. for these they already possess are so fruitful by nature. And they are moreover. as to excuse treachery. happy in this. And the physicians ma e no bones of employing it to all sorts of use. These leave to their heirs in common the full possession of goods. but frequently entertain them with menaces of their approaching death. and in feeding upon them too. and obtain a victory. having with them no other foundation than the sole jealousy of valour. in respect to the rules of reason: but not in respect to ourselves. All which they do. which the conquered do not admit to be                     . where they have no want of anything necessary. than so much as to open his mouth to entreat he may not. but only to extort some gentle or submissive word from them. with all things necessary. in bringing them into the world. There is not a man amongst them who had not rather be illed and eaten. Quam quae confessos animo quoque subjugat hostes. all the victors gain by it is glory only. which are our familiar vices. children. nor of this greatest of all goods. And those in turn do the same. * * 'Tis said the Gascons with such meats appeased their hunger. {BK1_30 ^paragraph 30} Vascones. to no other end. as our own ancestors. who will not rather choose to die than ma e such a confession. women. Victoria nulla est. and the old men are fathers to all. and cruelty. either to apply it outwardly. and indeed.

than Captain Iscolas to the certain loss of a battle? Who could have found out a more subtle invention to secure his safety. and sent them bac . and with the rest. after having made a great slaughter of the enemy. * If his legs fail him he fights on his nees. to the single glory of the discomfiture of King Leonidas and his men. dying. and seeing that all who were presented to the enemy. considering the nature of the place and the inequality of forces. 'tis a tric of science and art. We have sufficient advantages over our enemies that are borrowed and not truly our own. who. he resolved to ma e good the pass. I have a song                           . and with the death of them. and no effect of virtue. He that falls obstinate in his courage. the fairest the sun ever beheld. they always appear with a cheerful countenance. it is a dead and corporeal quality to set in array. Mycale. defy. reputing it unworthy of his own virtue and magnanimity and of the Lacedaemonian name to fail in any part of his duty. De Sexto Consul. finding it utterly impossible for him to do. Valour is stability. importune their masters to ma e haste to bring them to the test. De Providentia. Is there any trophy dedicated to the conquerors. {BK1_30 ^paragraph 35} The Hungarians. and the honour of valour consists in fighting. the most valiant are sometimes the most unfortunate. ii. never pretend further than to reduce the enemy to their discretion. it is the quality of a porter. a very warli e people.Si succiderit. to ma e them engage their word never to bear arms against them again. to have stronger arms and legs. for being presently environed on all sides by the Arcadians. is overcome not by us. for any danger of imminent death.. not conquered. But to return to my story: these prisoners are so far from discovering the least wea ness. must certainly be left upon the place. abates nothing of his assurance. but of the courage and the soul. which was not much more due to these who were overcome? The part that true conquering is to play. lies in the encounter.* he who. during the two or three months they are ept... rail at them. or to dazzle him with the light of the sun.Seneca. he and his were all cut in pieces. at the most. and reproach them with cowardice. he preserved for the service and defense of their country. at the pass of Thermopylae. of Salamis. he chose a mean betwixt these two extremes after this manner. not in the coming off. Never could those four sister victories. it does not lie in the goodness of our horse or our arms: but in our own. Plataea. Hon. and that may happen in a mean base fellow. they let them go without injury or ransom. de genu pugnat. which. v. to ma e the enemy buy their entry as dear as possibly he could. and on the other side. as it fell out. not of legs and arms. excepting. yet darts at his enemy a fierce and disdainful loo . to be a good fencer.Claudian. he is illed. and the number of battles they have lost against those of their country. the youngest and most active of his men. to the winning. on the contrary. The estimate and value of a man consist in the heart and in the will: there his true honour lies. 'tis a turn of fortune to ma e our enemy stumble. Whoever ran with a more glorious desire and greater ambition. There are defeats more triumphant than victories. whose loss would be of less consideration. for having forced this confession from them. for all the terrors that can be represented to them that.so. not in subduing. and Sicily. than he did to assure his destruction? He was set to defend a certain pass of Peloponnesus against the Arcadians. venture to oppose all their united glories. but by fortune.

as I presuppose it is in a very fair way (miserable men to suffer themselves to be deluded with desire of novelty and to have left the serenity of their own heaven. and assisted them in the succession to their father's crown. it is not so. by how much they have the greater reputation for valour. Sarah. these men are very savage in comparison of us. Besides what I repeated to you before. for they shall withal eat their own fathers and grandfathers. for being above all things solicitous of their husbands' honour. and something bordering upon the Gree terminations. adder. that begins thus: "Stay. for there is a vast difference betwixt their manners and ours. And 'tis most certain. adder. a love-song. gave the most beautiful of their handmaids to their husbands. the two wives of Jacob. but a truly matrimonial virtue. they must either be absolutely so or else we are savages. Most of our ladies will cry out. that all this is done by a simple and servile obligation to their common practice. And that it may not be supposed. In plain truth. and to bring in the most companions they can. and they were made to see our fashions. Livia preferred the passions of Augustus to her own interest. but." says he. and dine upon him. In the Bible.made by one of these prisoners." etc. and of the highest form. some one as ed their opinion. by which means thy beauty and the excellent order of thy scales shall forever be preferred before all other serpents. that 'tis monstrous. and to procure them many spouses. 'tis their chiefest care to see out. that it cannot contrive what else to do. And it is one very remar able feature in their marriages. and would now of them. I have another. The men there have several wives. those employ to promote their husbands' desires. stay. wherein he bids them "come all. there is nothing of barbarous in this invention. To which may be added. and so much the greater number. or by any authoritative impression of their ancient custom. that to the very last gasp. and welcome. that their language is soft. are your own: poor silly souls as you are. they never cease to brave and defy them both in word and gesture. without judgment or reasoning and from having a soul so stupid. that it is perfectly Anacreontic. with Leah and Rachel. whose flesh has served to feed and nourish him. whereas in truth. did not only give up a fair young maid that served her to her husband's embraces. that the same jealousy our wives have to hinder and divert us from the friendship and familiarity of other women. {BK1_30 ^paragraph 40} Three of these people.                         ." Wherein the first couplet. and the wife of King Deiotarus. Those that paint these people dying after this manner. our pomp. After which. moreover. of necessity. notice what you eat. that by thy pattern my sister may draw the fashion and wor of a rich ribbon. and the form of a great city. "this flesh and these veins. "Stay. Now I have conversed enough with poetry to judge thus much: that not only. represent the prisoner spitting in the faces of his executioners and ma ing wry mouths at them. forasmuch as it is a testimony of the husband's virtue. ma es the burden of the song. which was one of their songs of war. but moreover carefully brought up the children he had by her. of a pleasing accent. The ing himself tal ed to them a good while. and that the effect of this commerce will be their ruin. Stratonice. you little thin that the substance of your ancestors' limbs is here yet. I must here give you some touches of their sufficiency in point of understanding. and you will find in it the taste of your own flesh": in which song there is to be observed an invention that nothing relishes of the barbarian. to come so far to gaze at ours!) were at Rouen at the time that the late King Charles IX was there. not foreseeing how dear their nowledge of the corruptions of this part of the world will one day cost their happiness and repose. that I may present to my beloved. These muscles..

they found most to be admired? To which they made answer. to signify as many as could march in such a compass. forasmuch as. which might be four or five thousand men.Horace. * it is much more easy to satisfy the hearers. and to pry into the secrets of the divine will. and our mariners called him ing). judicial astrologers. and well armed. fortune-tellers. and that they did not rather choose out one amongst themselves to command. All this does not sound very ill. as what we least now. throw them from corner to corner. that they had observed. Demanding of him further.. As ing him. and am troubled at it. strong. and the continual discordance of events. and physicians. For which reason. * In Critias. and that they did not ta e the others by the throats. and toss them from east to west. lean. when spea ing of the nature of the gods than of the nature of men. yet do they still persist in their vain inquisition. and one who was so perplexed by his own ignorance to apprehend my meaning. and with the same pencil to paint blac and white. whilst. of which I have forgotten the third. THAT A MAN IS SOBERLY TO JUDGE OF THE DIVINE ORDINANCES THE true field and subject of imposture are things un nown. or set fire to their houses. that when anything befalls them amiss in any encounter or battle. i.what of all the things they had seen. by which he might pass at his ease. there to discover the incomprehensible motives of His wor s. he told me. *(2) to which I would willingly. id genus omne. nor any people so confident. they planned him paths through the thic of their woods. {BK1_31 XXXI. *(2) And all that sort of people. for they wear no breeches. Secondly (they have a way of spea ing in their language. that in the first place they thought it very strange. and moreover. join a pac of people that ta e upon them to interpret and control the designs of God Himself. and putting the question to him. if I durst. says Plato. whether or no his authority expired with the war? he told me this remained: that when he went to visit the villages of his dependence. and they thought it strange that these necessitous halves were able to suffer so great an inequality and injustice. because the ignorance of the auditory affords a fair and large career and all manner of liberty in the handling of abstruse things. to call men the half of one another). who were about the ing ('tis li e they meant the Swiss of his guard) should submit to obey a child. they deprive us of the means to question and dispute them. their halves were begging at their doors. that nothing is so firmly believed. that I could get nothing out of him of any moment. there is this commendable custom. as having committed                                 . and the last was not at all amiss. in the meantime. Sat. They said. who is their god. three things. and half-starved with hunger and poverty. that there were amongst us men full and crammed with all manner of commodities. their very strangeness lends them credit. in the first place. what advantage he reaped from the superiority he had amongst his own people (for he was a captain. they publicly as pardon of the sun. as those who entertain us with fables. I tal ed to one of them a great while together. by not being subjected to our ordinary reasons. but two I yet remember. Thence it comes to pass.. to march at the head of them to war. and although the variety. that so many tall men wearing beards. In a nation of the Indies. but I had so ill an interpreter. such as your alchemists. pretending to find out the cause of every accident. how many men he had to follow him? he showed me a space of ground.

might as well add the death of Heliogabalus. and deprives us of the means foolishly to ma e thereof our own profit. by saying they were fatherly scourges and corrections that they had not a people wholly at their mercy. God. It were better to possess the vulgar with the solid and real foundations of truth. being pleased to show us. let him not thin it strange. THAT WE ARE TO AVOID PLEASURES. with what face soever they may present themselves. and to that submitting their own judgment and reason. should die. EVEN AT THE EXPENSE OF LIFE I HAD long ago observed most of the opinions of the ancients to concur in this. and who will lift up his eyes to ta e in a greater. Quis hominum potest scire consilium Dei? aut quis poterit cogitare quid velit Dominus? * * Who amongst men can now the counsel of God? or who can thin what the will of the Lord is?.an unjust action. We are to content ourselves with the light it pleases the sun to communicate to us. Irenaeus was involved in the same fortune. that is. 'Tis a conflict. as in the war wherein we are now engaged upon the account of religion. at several times. it is to be feared. when they came afterwards to excuse their misfortunes of Moncontour and Jarnac. they ma e it manifestly enough appear. he there lose his sight. that Arius. And those people abuse themselves who will pretend to dive into these mysteries by the strength of human reason. that the good have something else to hope for and the wic ed something else to fear. They never give one hit that they do not receive two for it. and his Pope Leo. And who would ta e upon him to give a reason. by virtue of his rays.                                     . indeed. 'Twas a fine naval battle that was gained under the command of Don John of Austria a few months since against the Tur s. who was also slain in a house of office. that it is high time to die. {BK1_32 XXXII. to receive them with ac nowledgment of His divine and inscrutable wisdom. as these old laws instruct us. they both of them suddenly gave up the ghost upon the stool). the principal heads of the Arian heresy. of which St. what it is to ta e two sorts of grist out of the same sac . without waste and losing a great deal of the weight. Augustine ma es out a great proof upon his adversaries. and that to preserve life to our own torment and inconvenience. is contrary to the very rules of nature. and would aggravate this divine vengeance by the circumstances of the place. 'Tis enough for a Christian to believe that all things come from God. In fine. manages and applies these according to His own occult will and pleasure. by a griping in the bowels. And. as an infallible approbation of their cause. to see to affirm and support our religion by the prosperity of our enterprises. than the fortunes or misfortunes of this world. that is more decided by strength of memory. without going about to authorize it by events: for the people being accustomed to such plausible arguments as these and so proper to their taste. lest when they fail of success they should also stagger in their faith.Boo of Wisdom. 'tis a hard matter to reduce divine things to our balance. of so li e and strange deaths (for being withdrawn from the disputation. Our belief has other foundation enough. when there is more ill than good in living. and also than fully to accept and receive them. if for the reward of his presumption. and with the same mouth to blow hot and cold. than by the force of reason. But I do not approve of what I see in use. those who had the better in the business of Rochelabeille. ma ing great brags of that success. always imputing their good or evil fortune to the divine justice. but it has also pleased God at other times to let us see as great victories at our own expense.

that famous enemy of the Arian heresy. for that he had in his travels found out a much greater and more worthy fortune for her. which they only ta e subsidiarily. Hilary's wife. by vows. St. till this passage of Seneca fell into my hands. as he conceived. as we call them. to be removed out of this world than to have stayed in it. but with Christian moderation. of fortune. Kreisson to me zen estin. she died. had intelligence thither sent him. I had never seen it either commanded or practised. being. for being borrowed from Epicurus. and the other alleging some difficulties: "I am of opinion. rather than to brea . fair. shortly after calling her to Him. and in the flower of her age. was sought in marriage by the greatest nobleman of the country. xx. that had not rather once fall than to be always falling. and how much happier she was. at which he expressed a singular joy. whereupon he wrote to her (as appears upon record). or happy death. and orisons.Stobaeus. a husband of much greater power and magnificence. It is well to die when life is wearisome. as being a virgin virtuously brought up. to join her wholly to God. the not thou hast indiscreetly nit. that He would please to call her out of this world. that she begged of her husband. provided. St. and goods. as accordingly it came to pass. thou resolutely brea it. besides. forasmuch as he applies himself to this means at the outset. with the extremest importunity. "either that thou leave that life of thine. advise thee to the gentle way. and. who writes the same thing upon the li e occasion to Idomeneus. I would. e zen athlios. to alter his voluptuous and magnificent way of living. though it be from my purpose. quiet. to beg of the Almighty. who advising Lucilius. indeed. And I thin I have observed something li e it. or life itself. for soon after his return. the death of his daughter. It is better to die than to live miserable. Hilary. that she should remove her affection from all the pleasures and advantages proposed to her. and God. Kalon to thnes ein ois ubrin to phen pherei. and to retire himself from this worldly vanity and ambition. and to ta e her to Himself. that if it be not otherwise to be untied. and other favours. it was a death embraced with singular and mutual content. But I will not omit the latter end of this story. * * Either tranquil life. e thanein eudaimonos. and to untie. prayers.. whom he left at home under the eye and tuition of her mother. {BK2_1                     ." I should have found this counsel conformable enough to the Stoical roughness: but it appears the more strange. to some solitary. but the nearest and most certain way to this." says he. to do as much for her. it was towards his only daughter. Serm. This seems to outdo the other. having understood from him how the death of their daughter was brought about by his desire and design.. as if reason were not sufficient to persuade us to avoid them. But to push this contempt of death so far as to employ it to the removing our thoughts from the honours. dignities. and philosophical life. riches. he never ceased.E zen alupos. that Abra his only daughter. who would present her with robes and jewels of inestimable value. a man of great power and authority about the emperor. amongst our own people. Bishop of Poictiers. rich. at their joint request. conceived so vivid an apprehension of the eternal and heavenly beatitude. without adding this new injunction. being in Syria. There is no man so great a coward. wherein his design was to dispossess her of the appetite and use of worldly delights.

Both the Gree s and the Latins. there shall one be found that. OF EXPERIENCE THERE is no desire more natural than that of nowledge. he was not aware that there is as much liberty and latitude in the interpretation of laws. that there will not remain some circumstance and diversity which will require a diverse judgment. where reason is wanting. the consequence we would draw from the comparison of events is unsure. we therein employ experience." which is a means much more wea and cheap. that we ought not to disdain any mediation that will guide us to it. shall so tally with any other one. in this vast number of millions of events so chosen and recorded. and by applying to these a hundred thousand laws? This number holds no manner of proportion with the infinite diversity of human actions. and be so exactly coupled and matched with it. sic nunc legibus laboramus:" and yet we have left so much to the opinions and decisions of our judges. that of events to come. particularly one at Delphos. it will still not happen. employ that of eggs: and yet there have been men. can so carefully polish and blanch the bac s of his cards. that there never was so full a liberty or so full a license. no art can arrive at perfect similitude: neither Perrozet. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 5} Exemplo monstrante viam. and they but fool themselves. in cutting out for them their several parcels. as difference ma es another. that was not unli e. and we. that we had better have none at all. There is little relation between our actions. And yet I am not much pleased with his opinion. "Per varios usus artem experientia fecit. than to deliver his own.                                   . who could distinguish mar s of difference among eggs so well. but truth is no great thing. and as if there were less animosity and tartness in commentary than in invention. Nature has obliged herself to ma e nothing other. who thin to lessen and stop our disputes by recalling us to the express words of the Bible: forasmuch as our mind does not find the field less spacious wherein to controvert the sense of another. the multiplication of our inventions will never arrive at the variety of examples. and more than would be necessary for the government of all the worlds of Epicurus: "Ut olim flagitiis. the most simple and general: and I am even of opinion. We try all ways that can lead us to it. could tell which had laid it. are those that are the most rare. Resemblance does not so much ma e one. experience has no fewer. who thought by the multitude of laws to curb the authority of judges. and fixed and immutable laws. that we now not to which to ta e. as in their form. Dissimilitude intrudes itself of itself in our wor s. What have our legislators gained by culling out a hundred thousand particular cases. and. which are in perpetual mutation. add to these a hundred times as many more. for the most express example of similitude. the most to be desired.BOOK THE SECOND I. than to have them in so prodigious a number as we have. that some gamesters will not distinguish them by seeing them only shuffled by another. as diversity and variety. for we have more laws in France than all the rest of the world put together. nor any other cardmar er. that he never mistoo one for another. There is no quality so universal in this image of things. having many hens. by reason they are always unli e. We see how much he was mista en. Reason has so many forms.

Nature always gives them better and happier than those we ma e ourselves. wisely provided that they should not carry along with them any students of the long-robe. any way of declaring himself that does not fall into doubt and contradiction? if it be not that the princes of that art. either human or divine. I now not what to say to it. The hundredth commentator passes it on to the next. and unintelligible in wills and contracts? and that he who so clearly expresses himself. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 10} Who will not say that glosses augment doubts and ignorance. we teach men to increase their doubts. and can no more fall within any rule or prescription. that the wisest among us should so determine ours. and are now still more perplexed with Bartolus and Baldus. for in subdividing these subtleties. it evades their endeavor. its own shoe. that ma e most trips in the smoothest way. still more notty and perplexed than he found it. quidquid usque in pulverem sectum est. as the earth is made fertile by being crumbled and dug deep: "Difficultatim facit doctrina. the mother of altercation and division: judging with Plato. but experience ma es it manifest. becomes obscure. if he could not do this. In sowing and retailing questions. on their mar et day. as being a science in its own nature. and endeavor to reduce it to their own will. ta e the first passer-by that travels along their mountains. li e some horses that I have nown. Never did two men ma e the same judgment of the same thing. in whatever else he spea s or writes. What danger would there be." As you see children trying to bring a mass of quic silver to a certain number of parts. and spill it in pouring out: of one subject we ma e a thousand. much less will another that is not so good at it. have so weighed every syllable. and lengthen and disperse them. to determine their cause: and others who. I often find matter of doubt in things of which the commentary has disdained to ta e notice. We open the matter. I am most apt to stumble in an even country. sending colonies to the Indies. they put us into a way of extending and diversifying difficulties. fall again into the infinity of atoms of Epicurus. that so many interpretations dissipate truth. so easy for all other uses." We doubted of Ulpian. and at sight. "that lawyers and physicians are the pests of a country. and sprin les itself into so many separate bodies as frustrate all rec oning. and 'tis impossible to find two opinions exactly ali e. and the state wherein we see nations live. When were we ever                                             . so is it here. since there's no one boo to be found. and so thoroughly sifted every sort of quir ing connection. the more they irritate the liberty of this generous metal. that they are now confounded and intangled in the infinity of figures and minute divisions. and brea it. they ma e the world fructify and increase in uncertainties and disputes. not adorn ourselves with it. nor any certain intelligence: "Confusum est. without obligation of example and consequence? For every foot. for fear lest suits should get footing in that new world. the more they press and wor it. not only in several men. cannot find in these. who for their only judge. King Ferdinand. We should efface the trace of this innumerable diversity of opinions. according to occurrences. and in multiplying and subdividing them. but in the same man." Whence does it come to pass that our common language. Aristotle wrote to be understood. Witness the picture of the Golden Age of the poets. which the world busies itself about. whereof the difficulties are cleared by interpretation. choose out some one among them upon the spot to decide their controversies. who have no other: some there are. at diverse hours. and fill posterity with crotchets. applying themselves with a peculiar attention to cull out portentous words and to contrive artificial sentences. and a third than he who expressed his own thoughts.

and then suffocates itself in its wor . No generous mind can stop in itself. and beyond its power. Et cette-cy par l'aultre est devancee: Tousiours l'eau va dans l'eau. if it do not advance and press forward. Every place swarms with commentaries. that seeing something li e a dead body floating in the sea. but at the mercy of so many fences and barriers. Sans fin l'une eau. 'Tis an irregular and perpetual motion. of authors there is great scarcity. we can no longer discover it." so that the depth and weight of his doctrine might not overwhelm and stifle him. the first serves as a stoc to the second. and is eternally wheeling. "that they required a reader who could swim well. pursue. and not being able to approach it. and more boo s upon boo s than upon any other subject. and another road: there is no end of our inquisitions. Et tout de reng.agreed among ourselves: "this boo has enough. which Apollo sufficiently declared in always spea ing to us in a double. Is it not the principal and most reputed nowledge of our later ages to understand the learned? Is it not the common and final end of all studies? Our opinions are grafted upon one another. any progress or advancement toward peace. there is always room for one to follow. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 15} L'une suyt l'aultre. 'Tis nothing but particular wea ness that ma es us content with what others or ourselves have found out in this chase after nowledge: one of better understanding will not rest so content. that it loses its way. it will still tend further. and rush and wheel about. and oblique sense. what one Crates said of the writings of Heraclitus. et tousiours est-ce Mesme ruisseau. it does nothing but ferret and inquire. its inventions heat. et tousiours eau diverse. en un ruisseau coulant. d'une eternel conduict. "Ainsi veoid on. than when this great mass of law was yet in its first infancy? On the contrary. not feeding. et l'une l'aultre fuyt. for he is got                                             . there is now no more to be said about it?" This is most apparent in the law. and so cho ed themselves. To which. 'tis but half alive: its pursuits are without bound or method. the second to the third. nay. obscure. and retire. or do we stand in need of any fewer advocates and judges." {BK2_1 ^paragraph 20} There is no more ado to interpret interpretations than to interpret things. thus step by step we climb the ladder: whence it comes to pass that he who is mounted highest. but while running to it. we give the authority of law to infinite doctors. I now not what glimpse of light and imaginary truth. it has sallied beyond its effects. ambiguity. "Mus in pice. and is made drun with the motion: not much unli e Aesop's dogs. Par cette-cy. the chase. for all that. apres I'aultre roulant." It thin s it discovers at a great distance. celle-la est poulsee. we do nothing but comment upon one another. infinite decrees. and as many interpretations: yet do we find any end of the need of interpreting? is there. 'Tis a sign either that the mind has grown short-sighted when it is satisfied. hindrances and new inquisitions cross it. so many difficulties. set to wor to drin the water and lay the passage dry. has often more honor than merit. but amusing and puzzling us. or that it has got weary. without model and without aim. we dar en and bury intelligence. Men do not now the natural disease of the mind. falls pat enough. even for ourselves. our end is in the other world. its aliment is admiration. and so forth. and interproduce one another. juggling. and perplexing itself li e sil worms.

We exchange one word for another. Since the ethic laws. What we find to be favor and severity in justice." "And what is substance?" and so on. that I ought in this to have more liberty than others. entirely resembles another. and. or Mortal. have I extended my boo . they tell me they dared not go near him. The country people run to bring me news in great haste. and often for one less understood.up but an inch upon the shoulders of the last but one. I better now what Man is. we could not distinguish man from beast. having neither money nor friends to defend their innocence. "What virtue was. biased. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 25} How many innocent people have we nown that have been punished. lest the officers of justice should catch them there. as we see they are. Socrates as ed Menon. so full is it of error and contradiction. what pleasure. 'tis the Hydra's head. Do but consider the form of this justice that governs us. 'tis no wonder if those which govern so many particulars are much more so. that I now not whether the medium is as often met with. and are fitted to every one of our affairs. A stone is a body. that my theme turns upon itself. as Aristotle. To satisfy one doubt. and forced interpretation." "Very fine." "There is. every example halts and the relation which is drawn from experience is always faulty and imperfect. if they were not unli e. no face. that it should remind me of what I say of others who do the same. that they have just left in a forest of mine a man with a hundred wounds upon him. we could not distinguish one man from another. Our contest is verbal: I as what nature is. circle and substitution are? the question is about words. to their utter ruin. who was yet breathing. all things hold by some similitude. that Luther has left as many divisions and disputes about the doubt of his opinions. that the frequent amorous glances they cast upon their wor witness that their hearts pant with self-love. and that even the disdainful severity wherewith they scourge them. they pop me in the ear with three. of a magistrate and of a private person. and is answered accordingly. to ma e it spea of itself." We put one question. "the virtue of a man and of a woman. What could I have said to these people? 'Tis certain that this office of humanity would have brought them into trouble. and thou hast brought us a whole swarm. but have run away. Comparisons are ever coupled at one end or the other. "we were in quest of one virtue. My own excuse is. he would drive the respondent to the end of his Calepin. but if a man should further urge: "And what is a body?". that concern the particular duty of every one in himself. 'tis a true testimony of human wea ness." cried Socrates. and as happens to those who are found near a murdered person.and we find so much of them both. or Rational.are sic ly and unjust members of the very body and essence of justice. forasmuch as I write specifically of myself and of my writings."Substance. by some wrested. As no event. of an old man and of a child. are but the dandlings and caressings of maternal love. and begged of them water for pity's sa e." says Menon. whose valuing and undervaluing himself often springs from the same air of arrogance. and more than he himself raised upon the Holy Scriptures. they should be called in question about this accident. how foolishly. are so hard to be framed. but I now not whether others will accept this excuse. as I do of my other actions. and they return us a whole hive. and how many that have not arrived                                 . and this without the judge's fault. so do they not entirely differ: an ingenious mixture of nature. so do the laws serve. and help to carry him to some place of relief. if for no other reason but this. peradventure. foolishly. I have observed in Germany. If our faces were not ali e. than I now what Animal is. How often.

On one side was the reason of the cause. after this manner. as well as my ill. I am so enamored of liberty." There is no remedy: I am in the same case that Alcibiades was. the offices deputed by the prince to visit the state. I should live a little less at my ease. but to have a present made to them. whether my own or that of another. just in the nic . and the consequence of reversing judgments. Yet it was gravely deliberated whether or not they ought to suspend the execution of the sentence already passed upon the first accused: they considered the novelty of the example judicially. he may. that they have some men in custody. on the other side. if not pronounced. How many condemnations have I seen. these there present themselves. that the sentence was passed. who would come to do justice in great: that human justice is formed after the model of physic. not simply to be paid. But he had to do with a reparable affair. upon any account whatever. and beyond the necessity of their duty. according to which. Philip. that there is nothing just of itself. and of what is held by the Stoics. of his provinces. without commerce with. but that customs and laws ma e justice: and what the Theodorians held. and in the result. not even as a visitor. In China. The truth some time after being discovered. are informed by the officers of an inferior court hard by. or some other. if he nows them to be profitable to him. all that is useful is also just and honest. that Nature herself proceeds contrary to justice in most of her wor s: and of what is received by the Cyrenaics. let him be who be may. put myself into the hands of a man who may determine as to my head. Our justice presents to us but one hand. I would venture myself with such justice as would ta e notice of my good deeds. nor no prison has ever received me. than God. too. my men were irreparably hanged. that I will never. be shall be sure to come off with loss. leaving the sentence in the state it was. and that the left hand. has ever yet spo en to me in the quality of a judge. if I can help it. surpass our examples in several excellent features. whether criminal or civil. or nowledge of ours. are just in a sage.at our nowledge? This happened in my time: certain men were condemned to die for a murder committed: their sentence. Imagination renders the very outside of a jail displeasing to me. so do they liberally reward those who have conducted themselves better than the common sort. and while I can find earth or air open in                           . not only to be approved but to get. and made an indubitable discovery of all the particulars of the fact. of which ingdom the government and arts. where my life and honor shall more depend upon the s ill and diligence of my attorney than on my own innocence. and all sorts of uncleanness. more criminal than the crimes themselves? All which ma es me remember the ancient opinions "That 'tis of necessity a man must do wrong by retail. No judge. the poor devils were sacrificed by the forms of justice. who will do right in gross. at least determined and concluded on. who have directly confessed the murder. and out of his own purse recompensing the condemned party. that theft. He had condemned a man in a great fine toward another by an absolute judgement. as they punish those who behave themselves ill in their charge. and injustice in little things. sacrilege. provided against a li e inconvenience. the reason of the judicial forms: he in some sort satisfied both. he found that he had passed an unjust sentence. where I had as much to hope as to fear: indemnity is not sufficient pay to a man who does better than not to do amiss. and the judges deprived of repentance. and of which the history teaches me how much greater and more various the world is than either the ancients or we have been able to penetrate. The judges. that should I be interdicted the remotest corner of the Indies.

that it in some sort excuses ali e disobedience. unde coactis Cornibus in plenum menstrua luna redit: Unde salo superant venti. then. and that very well performs what the other promises. qua deficit. and it well answers their purpose. The goodness and capacity of the governor ought absolutely to discharge us of all care of the government. There is nothing so much. If those under which I live should but wag a finger at me by way of menace. in him who has the good luc to now how to employ it sincerely and regularly. by their irregularity and deformity. mundi quae subruat arces. it will not change itself for me. they have no other. lend. Whoever obeys them because they are just. and present us her face painted with too high and too adulterate a complexion. fail in equity. what a soft. let them be where they would. Qua venit exoriens. "tis my metaphysic. which we draw from foreign examples. they falsify them. nailed to a corner of the ingdom. as that of their invention. deprived of the right to enter the principal cities and courts. and defect in the interpretation. a helping hand to the disorder and corruption that all manifest in their dispensation and execution. Now. still oftener by men who. and salutary. The philosophers. if we ma e so little profit of that we have of our own. the laws eep up their credit. but always by men. that is to say. the administration and the observation of it. quid flamine captet {BK2_1 ^paragraph 35} Eurus. is employed that they may not hinder my liberty of coming and going." In this university. I shall now it well enough when I feel it. I suffer myself to be ignorantly and negligently led by the general law of the world. but yet one that is easy. doubtless. not so ingenious. As she has given us feet to wal with. soever we may extract from experience. nor so ordinarily faulty. for having quarreled with our laws. The most simply to commit one's self to nature. robust. Our French laws. et in nubes unde perennis aqua. public and common. my learning cannot ma e it alter its course. philosophical inquisitions and contemplations serve for no other use but to increase our curiosity. I study myself more than any other subject. All my little prudence in the civil wars wherein we are now engaged. and a greater folly to concern one's self about it. that will little advantage our institution. but they have nothing to do with so sublime a nowledge. 'tis folly to hope it. quos agitat mundi labor. Sit ventura dies. my physic. and pompous a prudence. send us bac to the rules of nature. sufficient to instruct us in that whereof we have need. What fruit. does not justly obey them as he ought. 'tis the mystic foundation of their authority. Good God! how ill should I endure the condition wherein I see so many people. in some sort. easy. and wholesome pillow is                             . {BK2_1 ^paragraph 30} "Qua Deus hanc mundi temperet arte domum. and. I would immediately go see out others. whence spring so many different pictures of so uniform a subject. as the laws. is to do it most wisely. and the liberty of the public roads. according to nature.any other part of the world. with great reason. which is more familiar to us. seeing it is necessarily ali e. quiet. vain and irresolute authors. the command is so perplexed and inconstant. not for being just. but because they are laws. Quaerite. out of hatred to equality. They are often made by fools. I shall never lur in any place where I must hide myself. nor so grossly. so has she given us prudence to guide us in life. Oh.

but plays its game apart. there is threatening and degrees: {BK2_1 ^paragraph 40} "Fluctus uti primo coepit cum albescere vento. whoever shall call to memory how many and many times he has been mista en in his own judgment. nay even that I bear to myself. a much more ample and important instruction. he would see them coming. than from my own. I learn my own debility and the treachery of my understanding. if it cannot reform the other parts according to its own model. et altius undas Erigit. rather choose to ta e the truth from another's mouth. In all my other errors. if I were but a good scholar: whoever will call to mind the excess of his past anger. others do more often for want of good faith. and find from this rule great utility to life. and the nowledge of his condition. since the god of wisdom and light caused it to be written on the front of his temple.ignorance and incuriosity. To learn that a man has said or done a foolish thing is nothing. and to what a degree that fever transported him. whoever will remember the ills he has undergone. is he not a great fool if he does not ever after suspect it? When I find myself convinced." {BK2_1 ^paragraph 45} Judgment holds in me a magisterial seat. will by that prepare himself for future changes. inde imo consurgit ad aethera fundo. the first opposition that is made to its testimony. I sha e my ears. in general. those that have threatened him. nor warrant it in another person's concerns: and were it not that what I do for want of memory. as a stone that I have stumbled at. at least it suffers not itself to be corrupted by them. I do the same. whence I extract the reformation of the whole mass.as. Paulatim sese tollit mare. I should always. I regard not the species and individual. without change or corruption. and would a little brea their impetuosity and career. The false steps that my memory has so often made. and Socrates minutely verifies it in Xenophon. even then when it was most secure and confident of itself. it may now swear to me and assure me as much as it will. are not idly thrown away. The life of Caesar has no greater example for us than our own: though popular and of command. and dare not trust it. 'tis still a life subject to all human accidents. and the light occasions that have removed him from one state to another. that prudence is no other thing than the execution of this ordinance. If every one would pry into the effects and circumstances of the passions that sway him. I learn to suspect my steps throughout. and am careful to place them right. puts me into suspense. I do not so much learn what he has said to me that is new. "to now themselves. for a certain degree of                   . whereon to repose a well-contrived head! I had rather understand myself well in myself. as I have done into those which I am most subject to. Of the experience I have of myself. in matter of fact. as comprehending all he had to advise us. of a false opinion. Plato says also. I find enough to ma e me wise. than in Cicero. we apply to ourselves all whereof we have principal need. Let us but listen to it.that would be no great acquisition. by the reason of another. will see the deformity of this passion better than in Aristotle. they do not always seize us on a sudden." should be of important effect. at least it carefully endeavors to ma e it so: it leaves my appetites to ta e their own course. The difficulties and obscurity are not discerned in any science but by those who are got into it. That advice to every one. and the particular ignorance. and conceive a more just hatred against it. a man must learn that he is nothing but a fool. and I dare not rely upon it in anything of moment. hatred and friendship.

who profess nothing else." So in this. have not we more reason than he to say so in this age of ours? Affirmation and obstinacy are express signs of want of wit. Do but hear them domineer. To my wea ness. so that one would conclude he had had some new soul and vigor of understanding infused into him since. and distinctly distributing my parcels and divisions under                                       . that every man thin s himself sufficiently intelligent. "that virtue was sufficient to ma e a life completely happy. by underta ing a new dispute? 'Tis by my own experience that I accuse human ignorance." Aristarchus said. in my opinion. therein find so infinite a depth and variety that all the fruit I have reaped from my learning serves only to ma e me sensible how much I have to learn. forasmuch as they now. and in his time scarce so many fools. who too fresh courage and vigor by his fall: "Cui cum tetigere parentem. the surest part of the world's school. I happen very often more exactly to see and distinguish the qualities of my friends than they do themselves. that anciently there were scarce seven sages to be found in the world. and have given them warning of themselves. the first fopperies they utter. to a constant coldness and moderation of opinions. escape me. whence this Platonic subtlety springs. I let few things about me. said to his disciples. both what I am to avoid." that every man is seen so resolved and satisfied with himself. Jam defecta vigent renovato ropore membra:" {BK2_1 ^paragraph 50} does not this incorrigible coxcomb thin that he assumes a new understanding. wholly believing and trusting in itself. as to that ancient son of the earth. and there are few things whereof I spea better and with better excuse. not by arranging this infinite variety of so diverse and unconnected actions into certain species and chapters." and. Such as will not conclude it in themselves. which is. 'tis in the style wherewith men establish religions and laws. let them believe it from Socrates. that serve to that purpose. I owe the propension I have to modesty. "Let us go and hear Socrates: I will be a pupil with you. nor they who do not now forasmuch as to inquire they must now what they inquire of. as Socrates gives Euthydemus to understand. assertionem approbationemque proecurrere. having no need of any other thing whatever:" except of the force of Socrates. and that it happened to him. and yet he will be at his Ergo's as resolute and sturdy as before. whether countenances. The long attention that I employ in considering myself. Also in my friends. A fellow has stumbled and noc ed his nose against the ground a hundred times in a day. maintaining this doctrine of the Stoic sect. I have astonished some with the pertinence of my description. quam cognitioni et perceptioni. and a hatred of that troublesome and wrangling arrogance. I have acquired a complexion studious in that particular. by so vain an example as mine. signifies that every one nows nothing about the matter. "Nihil est turpius. that "neither they who now are to inquire. or discourses. and what I am to follow. I. for the philosopher Antisthenes. so often confessed. "of nowing a man's self. the master of masters. to the obedience of belief prescribed me. By having from my infancy been accustomed to contemplate my own life in those of others. also fits me to judge tolerably of others. I discover by their productions their inward inclinations. and when I am once intent upon it. or their own. added he.intelligence is required to be able to now that a man nows not: and we must push against a door to now whether it be bolted against us or no. humors. I study all. the capital enemy of discipline and truth.

I should have had fidelity. There is none of us who would not be worse than ings. to settle our inconstancy. moreover. those who hazard the underta ing it to us manifest a singular effect of friendship. if he had so pleased. I have seen another of his ma e. boldness. as a thing that cannot be spo en at once and in gross: relation and conformity are not to be found in such low and common souls as ours." {BK2_1 ^paragraph 55} The wise spea . "Dum melior vires sanguis dabat. so ambiguous and variform they are. That which is remar ed for rare in Perseus. and set it in order. that I may so be excused from enslaving myself to another. I do not only find it hard to piece our actions to one another. "Sola sapientia in se tota conversa est. distinctly one by one. and from which I see no true reformation spring in those that do. no one quality simple and unmixed. upon occasions not to be guessed at. had any one designed to ma e use of me in my younger years. but by observing them by leisure. and. not in gross. But I had told the truth to that master of mine. present mine generally without rule and experimentally: I pronounce my opinion by disjointed articles. but I. to venture to wound and offend us. to marshal into distinct bodies this infinite diversity of faces. that great ing and philosopher. I thin it harsh to judge a man whose ill qualities are more than his good ones: Plato requires three things in him who will examine the soul of another: nowledge. that he affected and studied to ma e himself nown by being not to be nown. wandered in all sorts of living. to whom I thin this conclusion might more properly be applied. what I should have thought myself fit for. "Sed neque quam multae species. of which every piece eeps its place and bears its mar . et nomine quae sint. giving him to understand upon what terms he was in the common opinion. and fortuitous a thing. minute. could not defend himself from them. benevolence. for our own good.nown heads and classes. in so perplexed. ing of Macedon. still running headlong from one extreme to another. especially. Wisdom is a solid and entire building.                                                   . I. who see no further into things than as use informs me. aemula necdum Temporibus geminis canebat sparsa senectus:" {BK2_1 ^paragraph 60} "for nothing. "that his mind fixing itself to no one condition. with diverse lights. so that the best guess men can one day ma e will be. and as there are few who can endure to hear it without being nettled. and represented manners so wild and vagabond. judgment. for 'tis to love sincerely indeed. A man had need have sound ears to hear himself fran ly criticised. no moderate settledness. and I am very willing to profess not nowing how to do anything. I am sometimes as ed. if so continually corrupted as they are with that sort of vermin. and simply and naturally judging them as an eyewitness. Est numerus." seems almost to fit all the world. by scholastic lessons. and piece by piece. and had regulated his manners. which I understand not. and I now not whether or no they will be able to bring it about. and we see that Alexander. at all opportunities. no line of path without traverse and wonderful contrariety. that it was neither nown to himself or any other what ind of man he was. in opposition to his flatterers." say I. find it hard properly to design each by itself by any principal quality." I leave it to artists. and deliver their fancies more specifically.

for the internal soundness. I would above all things require the fidelity of silence. most offices of real friendship. esse velit. not only of very great affection and freedom. and now how to order himself without physic. and. as they do. I would have a man who is content with his own fortune. that. and of that one. Now. for his profit and amendment. should first himself have passed through all the diseases he pretends to                 . who present it pure. would beget an inconvenient irreverence. he would not be afraid to touch his master's heart to the quic . there is no condition of men whatever who stand in so great need of true and free advice and warning. all this hodge-podge which I scribble here. he cannot stand the liberty of a friend's advice. that a man lets it slip into the ear of a prince. and no man shall ma e me believe that a virtuous remonstrance may not be viciously applied. not only to no purpose. where reason wholly gives it place: Tiberius said that whoever had lived twenty years ought to be responsible to himself for all things that were hurtful or wholesome to him. so Plato had reason to say that." and of moderate station. to ta e instruction against the grain. and have to satisfy the opinion of so many spectators. but as to bodily health. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 65} A ing is not to be believed. and 'tis a part that is not indifferently fit for all men: for truth itself has not the privilege to be spo en at all times and indiscriminately: its use. noble as it is. has its circumscriptions and limits. added that it was hard if a man of sense.and freedom enough for that purpose. did not better now than any physician what was good or ill for him. so that therein there is great need. nihilque malit. the remainder of its effect being still in his own hands. is exemplary enough. forasmuch as. which. and indeed it answers with them. advising his disciples to be solicitous of their health as a chief study. when applied to the sovereign. For such a purpose. In fine. It would be a nameless office. forasmuch as. they insensibly find themselves involved in the hatred and detestation of their people. but a register of the essays of my own life. It often falls out. Experience is properly upon its own dunghill in the subject of physic. he would have more easy communication with all sorts of people. on the one hand. when he brags of his constancy in standing the shoc of the enemy for his glory. often upon occasions which they might have avoided without any prejudice even of their pleasures themselves. is nothing. on the other hand. which has no other power but to pinch his ear. for fear by that means of losing his preferment. Their favorites commonly have more regard to themselves than to their master. for to allow the privilege of this liberty and privacy to many. they sustain a public life. I would have this office limited to only one person. to be a right physician. as the world goes. it would be necessary that he who would become such. but of courage too. as those about them conceal from them whatever should divert them from their own way. had they been advised and set right in time. are under a rude and dangerous hazard. And physic itself professes always to have experience for the test of its operations. having a care to his exercise and diet. "Quod sit. being of no high quality. in truth. if. and that the interest of the substance is not often to give way to that of the form. no man can furnish out more profitable experience than I. otherwise it would lose its grace and its effect. but moreover injuriously and unjustly. and no way corrupted and changed by art or opinion. who. and he might have learned it of Socrates.

as my memory shall supply me with them. the same meat. Here are some of the articles. the smothered heat. 'Tis but reason they should get the pox. as you do an Italian if you lay him on a featherbed. without flame. that so manifestly is hurtful to us. withal. but on the outside. I have no custom that has not varied according to circumstances. less manifest the effects than any other sort of men. and. but I only record those that I have been best acquainted with. the same hours. I believe nothing more certainly than this. and without the wind that comes down our chimney. he nows not at which end to begin. but that they are physicians. and at the foot of them. that they sell medicinal drugs. the same bed. such as it pleases him. This German hearing me                                             . and but three steps from us. if they will now how to cure it. such a height. and he nows it not. and there ma es the model of a ship sailing in all security. My health is.cure. very much offend such as are not used to them. indeed. and if I will be ruled by the physicians. constant and universal. a ridiculous fancy. which were drawn twining about the rooms that were to be warmed: which I have seen plainly described somewhere in Seneca. one may say of them. by the same arguments which we commonly ma e use of in decrying their stoves: for. the others but guide us. she is all in all in that: 'tis the beverage of Circe. without smo e. that varies our nature as she best pleases." The arts that promise to eep our bodies and souls in health promise a great deal. whence the heat was conveyed to the whole fabric by pipes contrived in the wall. li e him who paints seas and roc s and ports sitting at table. the heat being always equal. according to my strength and appetite. 'Tis for custom to give a form to a man's life. I should put myself into such hands. and even the same drin . and that hitherto have had the greatest possession of me. for my part. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 70} My form of life is the same in sic ness as in health. If physic should one day give me some good and visible relief. I have made the experiment. to maintain my wonted state without disturbance. serve me in both conditions ali e. but. by finding fault with our hearths. I have lived long enough to be able to give an account of the custom that has carried me so far. to say the truth. You ma e a German sic if you lay him upon a mattress.but bring it to him. in our time. thin the fear of the night-dew. if without curtains or fire. not me. that I cannot be hurt by the use of things to which I have been so long accustomed.such a color. such an ear. as a town-crier does of a lost horse or dog. and our own watermen and peasants laugh at it. A German made me very merry at Augsburg. but put him to the wor itself. They ma e such a description of our maladies. so that by fortune and by art I am out of my way. they will put me off on the other. those who ma e profession of these arts among us. How many nations. for all that. truly. for him who has a mind to try it. And. at the most. as his taster. and then the smell of that heated matter of which the fire is composed. a man cannot say. there are none that less eep their promise. A Spanish stomach cannot hold out to eat as we can. Why do we not imitate the Roman architecture? for they say that anciently fires were not made in the houses. I will cry out in good earnest: "Tandem efficaci do manus scientiae. then. nor ours to drin li e the Swiss. and a Frenchman. they may many ways sustain comparison with ours. I add nothing to them but the moderation of more or less. and through all the accidents and circumstances whereof he is to judge. I see that sic ness puts me off it on one side.

beaten with this rattle. he had his study                                           . and what I have seen. He had heard some one ma e this complaint. to borrow our proofs from the shops of Vascosan or Plantin. being by custom deprived of the means of perceiving it at home. that he had ridden from Madrid to Lisbon. and Seneca almost says the same of himself. I often say that it is mere folly that ma es us run after foreign and scholastic examples. without any drin at all. he so much the more collected and retired himself into himself for contemplation. and about him a rabble of his servants ma ing all sorts of noise and confusion. when we commit them to the press: 'tis of a great deal more weight to say. especially upon the subject of human actions. that. In short. and he drin s more out of caprice than either for need or pleasure. indeed. their fertility is the same now that it was in the time of Homer and Plato. and the most wonderful example. who has very well behaved himself in several employments. that fire was the best condiment of life: I rather choose any other way of ma ing myself warm. in the heat of summer. nay. as soon quote a friend as Aulus Gellius or Macrobius. a whole year. without drin ing. began to compassionate me that I had to leave it. Now. All heat that comes from the fire wea ens and dulls me. forasmuch as. the greatest miracles of nature might be formed. and a man of considerable fortune. the heaviness of head that the chimneys elsewhere would bring upon me. in my opinion. to live sometimes two or three months. And. who believe not men if they are not in a boo . nor truth. we spea from the purpose. and what Aristotle says of Andron the Argian. which truly deserves it. What should we do with those people who admit of no evidence that is not in print. who no more disbelieve a man's mouth than his pen. than from the truth of the matter in hand? As if it were more to the purpose. We are afraid to drin our wines. and yet Evenus said.commend the conveniences and beauties of this city. that for being older it is none the wiser. that we have not the wit to cull out and ma e useful what we see before us. common. for if we say that we want authority to give faith to our testimony. but this. as what they have written. "I have heard such a thing. when toward the bottom of the cas . in a place where I was. He told me. of the most ordinary. or else. that it is not greater for having continued longer. He is sometimes thirsty. He is very healthful and vigorous for his age. and who loo upon this age as one that is past. and the first inconvenience he alleged to me was. but savage and miraculous in their sight. he made an advantage of this uproar. But is it not that we see more honor from the quotation. so do I hold of the truth. upon this subject. could we but find out their light. than from what is to be seen in our own village. studying in a corner of a hall that they had separated for him with tapestry. and it is the beverage of princes. and has nothing extraordinary in the use of his life. as he has told me. said." But I. and fixed it upon us. in Portugal those fumes are reputed delicious. and to judge of it clearly enough to draw it into example. every nation has many customs and usages that are not only un nown to other nations. when a student at Padua. that he traveled over the arid sands of Lybia without drin ing: a gentleman. as 'tis held of virtue. and he holds that it is an appetite which easily goes off of itself. if it be not of competent age? we dignify our fopperies. and who now that men write as indiscreetly as they spea ." than if you only say. setting aside the examples I have gathered from boo s. but he lets it pass over. and nown things. and that this tempest of voices repercussed his thoughts within himself. "I have read such a thing. Here is another example: 'tis not long ago that I found one of the learnedest men in France.

let such as these stop at home. to serve me: who soon after have quitted both my itchen and livery. to liberty and independence. in li e manner. "as those do who are accustomed to the ordinary noise of wheels drawing water. A young man ought to cross his own rules. but in a soldier vicious and intolerable. not to be able. that of ours ma es us loo upon as effeminacy. and. Beggars have their magnificences and delights. growing old. Socrates answered Alcibiades. as Philopoemen said. otherwise the least debauch will destroy him. not only into what form she pleases (the sages say we ought to apply ourselves to the best. to awa en his vigor and to eep it from growing faint and rusty. It is in every man unbecoming. What the usage of his time made him account roughness. but even to the use of noise." I am quite otherwise. put on a positive resolution of eating nothing that had had life. for the service of his studies. and render him troublesome and disagreeable in company." said he. "Ad primum lapidem vectari quum placet. si prurit frictus ocelli Angulus. and it is particular. that he might not be suspected of ta ing up this rule from some new religion by which it was prescribed: he adopted. 'tis said. pic ing mussels out of the sewer for his dinner. when 'tis bent upon anything. but I am diverted from them with very little ado. who. The best of my bodily conditions is that I am flexible and not very obstinate: I have inclinations more my own and ordinary. "Why. and there is no course of life so wea and sottish.so long situated amid the rattle of coaches and the tumult of the square. if not pliable and supple. even to his old age. but also to change and variation. collyria quaerit. I have pic ed up boys from begging. Seneca in his youth having. who was astonished how he could endure the perpetual scolding of his wife. yet so it is that. whom I could neither by entreaties nor threats reclaim from the sweetness he found in indigence. the Scythians and Indians have nothing more remote both from my capacity and my manners. as much as was possible. if he will ta e my advice. inspecta genesi. and more agreeable than others. as that which is carried on by rule and discipline. which is the most noble and most useful instruction of all she teaches us. that he not only formed himself to the contempt. and I found one afterward. the least buzzing of a fly tears it into pieces. to do what we see those about us do. their dignities and polities. only that they might return to their former course of life. and easily slip into a contrary course. from the precepts of Attalus a custom not to lie upon any sort of bedding that gave way under his weight. I have a tender head and easily discomposed. as well as the rich. and. ought to accustom himself to every variety and inequality of life. The worst quality in a well-bred man is over fastidiousness. and for a whole year dispensed with animal food. and an obligation to a certain particular way. with pleasure: only left off." {BK2_1 ^paragraph 80} he shall often throw himself even into excesses. These are effects of custom. she can mold us. Though I have been brought up. and. and having by indifference more settled upon certain forms (my age is now past                           . hora Sumitur ex libro. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 75} Do but observe the difference between the way of living of my laborers and my own. which she will soon ma e easy to us). made use of such as would not yield to any pressure. or not to dare. It is a ind of reproach. by the example of Sextius. as he said.

A man should addict himself to the best rules. but without a clean nap in. and ma e but little use either of spoon or for . it were better to endure a cough. very incommodiously. and when I rise. the finding great inconvenience from overmuch evening air. in certain things. and despises that of the night. and I could not lie without a canopy and curtains. if there be any such. with a violent pain in my head. where obligation and servitude are of profit. which he carefully avoids. and I should be as uneasy without my gloves as without my shirt. or without washing when I rise from table or out of my bed. helped me to some of hers. I foul them more than the Germans or Italians do. mine. on the other side. without overcharging my stomach. What. nor quench my thirst either with pure water or pure wine. Both ings and philosophers go to stool. for the most part. nor cut my hair after dinner. as not to be able to endure more than two full meals in one day. possessed with the opinion that the night dew is more sharp and dangerous about the declining of the sun. so imprinted its character in me. and never dran but out of a particular cup of his own: I. a man hardens himself by being obstinate and corrects his constitution. ere I was aware. so as to change us? Such as absolutely and on a sudden give way to these propensions. draw total destruction upon themselves. I go to sleep. nor a total abstinence from one of those meals without filling myself with wind. begun after the example of ings. through the folly of their physicians have in their youth and health wholly shut themselves up. without a great interval between eating and sleeping. not so much his reasoning as his experiences. he became nice in his drin . as if they were essential things. that I loo upon it as a ind of excess to leave them off. I owe several other such niceties to custom. as Caesar did the falling-sic ness. that it is desirable to refer it to certain                                             . cannot sleep in the day-time. wherefore I shall say of this act of relieving nature. Malignant science to interdict us the most pleasant hours of the day! Let us eep our possession to the last. I am sorry for several gentlemen who. and dulling my appetite. enjoys all natural dispensation. than. and. to change our nap ins at every service. which often happen to be all night long. according to their capacity. nor standing upon my feet. long and familiar intercourse with a lord. in li e manner. an hour or two before it sets. nor go to bed. after five or six hours my stomach begins to be queasy. and ladies too. When the others go to brea fast. after the German fashion. custom has already. without a force upon myself. by disuse. soldier and Gascon are also qualities a little subject to indiscretion. and has henceforward nothing to do but to eep itself up as well as it can). nor eat between meals. that is obscure and private. but not enslave himself to them. nor eep my head long bare. by dint of contempt. I am sorry they did not eep up the fashion. nor get children but before I sleep.instruction. but for some years past. nor brea fast. forever to lose the commerce of common life in things of so great utility. drying up my mouth. Nature has also. shall mere doubt and inquiry stri e our imagination. that growing old. I could dine without a tablecloth. and not willingly to drin in common glasses. nor endure my own sweat. so that I always vomit before the day can brea . as of three hours after supper. he almost impressed upon me. except to such. public lives are bound to ceremony. as they do our plates. nor more than from a strange common hand: all metal offends me in comparison of a clear and transparent matter: let my eyes taste too. I am as bris and gay as before. I had always been told that the night dew never rises but in the beginning of the night. have suffered myself to fancy a certain form of glasses. We are told of that laborious soldier Marius. for of late years in night marches.

To be subject to the stone and subject to abstain from eating oysters. when I was young. Since we are ever in danger of mista ing. method of life. as I have done. change. that they prepare patients betimes for death. I hate remedies that are more troublesome than the disease itself. I give great authority to my propensions and desires. and compel one's self to this by custom. Hos superesse reor. is it not in some measure excusable to require more care and cleanliness? "Natura homo mundum et elegans animal est. ut vivamus. which is at leaping out of bed. I do not love to cure one disease by another. Do you believe that chestnuts can hurt a Perigourdin or a Lucchese. shut a seaman up in a stove. has of its own accord happily enough accommodated itself to the health of my stomach. redditur ipsa gravis. it has great suspicion of facility. "Quem circumcursans huc atque huc saepe Cupido Fulgebat crocina splendidus in tunica. Both well and sic . as I have done in my declining years." Of all the actions of nature. I never received harm by any action that was very pleasant to me. let us rather run the hazard of a mista e. I thin then. Prescribe water to a Breton of three score and ten. and I have. than in sitting still in that course of life wherein they have been bred and trained up." {BK2_1 ^paragraph 95} given myself the rein as licentiously and inconsiderately to the                               . and thin s nothing profitable that is not painful.. Atque. distempers and puts one out. Relish and pungency in sauces were pleasant to me when young but my stomach disli ing them since. I am the most impatient of being interrupted in that. if some indispensable business or sic ness does not molest us. that sic men cannot better place themselves anywhere in more safety. but not to subject one's self. my taste incontinently followed. and ma e it troublesome by long sitting: and yet. to a particular convenience of place and seat for that purpose. in the fouler offices. vivere desinimus." {BK2_1 ^paragraph 90} If they do no other good. I have ever willingly suffered myself to obey the appetites that pressed upon me. they do this at least. does me harm. after we have had the pleasure. and with an invincible disli e.prescribed and nocturnal hours. whereas mine and I never fail of our punctual assignation. My appetite. but a contrary. and nothing hurts me. or mil and cheese the mountain people? We enjoin them not only a new. are two evils instead of one: the disease torments us on the one side. a change that the healthful cannot endure. and accordingly have made all medicinal conclusions largely give way to my pleasure. as I said before. in various things. and in the end of air and light. I have seen many soldiers troubled with the unruliness of their bellies. The world proceeds quite the other way. by little and little undermining and cutting off the use of life.. qua regimur. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 85} "An vivere tanti est? Cogimur a suetis animum suspendere rebus. Wine is hurtful to sic people. that eat with appetite and delight. quibus et spirabilis aer Et lux. Whatever I ta e against my li ing. and 'tis the first thing that my mouth then finds distasteful. be it what it will. forbid a Basque footman to wal : you will deprive them of motion. and the remedy on the other.

a man of that profession." for if it mean. And then how easy a thing is it to satisfy the fancy? In my opinion. The most grievous and ordinary evils are those that fancy loads us with. for 'tis loud and forced. according to Fernel and to Scaliger. and ba ed the gravel in his idneys. they have often desired me to moderate my voice. If your physician does not thin it good for you to sleep. The art of physic is not so fixed. as not to have even wishing left to him. all the rules of physic would hardly be able to divert me from it. this great desire cannot be imagined so strange and vicious. I do the same when I am well. as much as any irregularity I can commit. that we need be without authority for whatever we do. or. by chance." To which the other replied. "the tone he would have me spea in. this Spanish saying mightily pleases in several senses. "Et militavi non sine gloria. My voice pains and tires me. who had made use of extreme abstinence to contend with his disease: his fellow-physicians say that. "Defienda me Dios de my. who could not remember when she was a maid: {BK2_1 ^paragraph 100} "Inde tragus. Someone in a certain Gree school spea ing loud as I do. I saw a miserable sic person panting and burning for thirst. never trouble yourself. then. and my fortune may well be coupled with that of Quartilla. mirandaque matri Barba meae. he must send me.desire that was predominant in me. at least. and                                         . This story deserves a place here." I am sorry when I am sic ." Physicians modify their rules according to the violent longings that happen to sic persons. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 105} I have observed. above all the rest. so that when I have gone to whisper some great persons about affairs of consequence. to drin wine. I can see very little more to be hoped or wished for. this abstinence had dried him up. govern yourself by him. The tone and motion of my voice carries with it a great deal of the expression and signification of my meaning. ordinarily with good success. "'tis sufficient that he hear you. "That he should ta e the tone from the ears of him to whom he spa e. or to eat such and such meats. this part wholly carries it. it changes according to climates and moons." replied the other." It was well said. that he might be cured." I do not find it to be reason. on the contrary. that both in wounds and sic nesses. I do not remember myself so far bac ." as any other whomsoever. spea ing discomposes and hurts me. who condemned that advice as prejudicial to him: had he not tormented himself to good purpose? There lately died of the stone. I will find you another that shall not be of his opinion. celeresque pili. 'Twere pity a man should be so wea and languishing. to confess at what a tender age I first came under the subjection of love: it was indeed. that I have not some longing that might give me the pleasure of satisfying it." 'Tis certainly a misfortune and a miracle at once. than in sally: "Sex me vix memini sustinuisse vices. for it was long before the years of choice or nowledge. if to be understood: "Spea according to the affair you are spea ing about to your auditor. the master of the ceremonies sent to him to spea softly: "Tell him. who was afterward laughed at for his pains by another physician. the diversity of medical arguments and opinions embraces all sorts of forms. yet more in continuation and holding out. but that nature must have a hand in it.

si quid in te inique proprie constitutum est. moreover. it would be very pretty for him to say. non magnitudine. and I have lost some. that "we are neither obstinately and willfully to oppose evils. and contrary to its rules. we are born to grow old. "Pray. Plato does not believe that Aesculapius troubled himself to provide. according to its bias. "But such an one died. taught me this." 'Tis injustice to lament that which has befallen any one." Spea ing is half his who spea s. a voice to flatter. and of various reflections. who have had three physicians always at their tails? Example is a vague and universal mirror." and so shall you: if not of that disease. And how many have not escaped dying. but that we are naturally to give way to them. I will not only that my voice reach him. that he restore him to youth: {BK2_1 ^paragraph 110} "Stulte. spea lower. suffer and say nothing. they have their fortune and their days limited from their birth. lengthens and multiplies them. the stone. and half his who hears. the latter ought to prepare himself to receive it. master. rains. meagrims. peradventure. by their own decay. to grow wea . to grow old and die in time a natural death. Experience has. My good friend. I am of Brantor's opinion. When I rattle my footman with sharp and bitter language. if it be pleasant and grateful to the palate: pleasure is one of the chiefest inds of profit." We ought to grant free passage to diseases. your business is done. The gout. If it be a delicious medicine. by regimen to prolong life in a wea and wasted body. that is to say. I will never stic at the name nor the color. and according to the stro e itself." "Est quaedam vox ad auditum accommodata. nor truc le under them for want of courage. without help and without art. to ma e myself understood: there is a voice to instruct. reputed the most tenacious and obstinate. 'Tis the first lesson the Mexicans teach their children. their diseases and their recovery. We must patiently suffer the laws of our condition. shifts and prepares. sed proprietate. relaxations. useless to his country and to his profession. according to their condition and our own. which is to direct all things to utility. and incenses instead of appeasing them. or to beget healthful and robust children. which may befall every one: "Indignare. child.'tis I who am to govern it. and to be sic . of another. that it stri e and pierce him. I find they stay less with me. and other accidents. in despite of all medicine. he who receives the ball. and a voice to reprehend. ta e it: 'tis always so much present good. Evils have their life and limits. she better understands her own affairs than we. nobody can                                     . who let them alone. as heat. The constitution of maladies is formed by the pattern of the constitution of animals. but. and indigestion are symptoms of long years. he who attempts imperiously to cut them short by force in the middle of their course. quid haec frustra votis puerilibus optas?" is it not folly? his condition is not capable of it. gouty defluxions." See an old man who begs of God that he will maintain his health vigorous and entire. I have suffered colds. and does not thin this care suitable to the divine justice and prudence. so soon as ever they are born they thus salute them: "Thou art come into the world. Let us a little permit Nature to ta e her own way. I hear you very well. as with tennis players. and winds are of long journeys. that we ruin ourselves by impatience. palpitations of the heart. to endure: endure. according as he sees him move who stri es the stro e. I have so lost them when I was half fit to eep them: they are sooner prevailed upon by courtesy than huffing.

li e the harmony of the world. my mind is fit for that office. that of such as are struc with it. 'tis a noble and dignified disease. I see everywhere men tormented with the same disease. the cries and despairing groans of those who ma e it worse by their impatience. being fallen into the most common infirmity of my age. and I cannot expect a better bargain. wea ened with sic ness. and having once surprised me. 'Tis an infirmity that punishes the members by which thou hast most offended. Will you have an example? It tells me: "that 'tis for my good to have the stone. at the most. it would successfully relieve me. sweet and harsh. and it is now time it should begin to disjoin and to confess a breach. for the voiding a little gravel. and prop you a little. sharp and flat. and as long as any man that is in perfect health. if I could. what would he be able to do? he must now how to ma e use of them all.of diverse tones. that the structure of my age must naturally suffer some decay. with greater indness than my pain was sharp.by which threats I was indeed moved and sha en.restore you. "formerly affrighted thee. 'tis always agitation and combat. and another with approaching death. begot a horror in thee. could it persuade as it preaches. I use my imagination as gently as I can. seemed to me equally easy to ta e and fruitless in operation. which I often do by the aid of nature. even the decorum of my countenance is not disturbed in company. I consult little about the alterations I feel." says mind. sprightly and solemn: the musician who should only effect some of these. when they have you at their mercy. and though my judgement was neither altered nor distracted." We must learn to suffer what we cannot evade. and so we should mingle the goods and evils which are consubstantial with our life. and would discharge it. I therein pay what is due to old age. but patch you up. and by that means prolong your misery an hour or two: Non secus instantem cupiens fulcire ruinam. and deceive it. To attempt to ic against natural necessity. our life. is composed of contrary things. for some ordinary broths of Eringo or burst-wort that I have twice or thrice ta en to oblige the ladies who. for these doctors ta e advantage. The fear of this disease. our being cannot subsist without this mixture. and I can hold my water ten hours. they can. Diversis contra nititur obiicibus. whereas I owe my better state purely to my good fortune. they cudgel your ears with their prognostics. when it was un nown to thee. and as many crowns to their physicians. that society ought to comfort me. Now. the others have to pay a thousand vows to Aesculapius. is to represent the folly of Ctesiphon who undertoo to ic with his mule. yet it was at least disturbed. and to mix them. and the one part is no less necessary to it than the other. flatter. few have it to a less degree of pain. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 115} Donec certa dies. that these are put to the trouble of a strict diet and the daily ta ing of nauseous potions. 'tis a common necessity.one while menacing me with great pains. but not subdued nor jostled from my place. if he can. Thou art a conscientious fellow:" {BK2_1 ^paragraph 120}                                       . forasmuch as men of the best quality are most frequently afflicted with it. Ipsum cum rebus subruat auxilium. would needs present me half of theirs. of all trouble and contest. a man must assist. omni campage soluta. it needs no appearances throughout. and am honored by the fellowship. and there is nothing in it either miraculous or new. injuriously handled me with their dogmas and magisterial fopperies.

death ills thee without the help of sic ness. we see men with whom it has continued from their infancy even to their extreme old age. as it were by composition. one way and another sterile and lost. you more often ill it than it ills you. that as in wounds. and dreadful water. Whether or no. dolenda venit. thou and thy confidence will at one time or                                           . And though it should present to you the image of approaching death. do but observe how late it comes. to put him in mind of his end? And. what matters if they go thither by accident.Que venit indigne poena. some are medicinal and wholesome. a quality. notwithstanding. The stone is often no less long-lived than you. If thou tellest me that it is a dangerous and mortal disease. it only seizes on and incommodes that part of thy life. at thy own ease and leisure. Dost thou call to mind the men of past time. now and then ma ing excuse for thy pain. which is worse. to tremble. what others are not so? for 'tis a physical cheat to except any that they say do not go direct to death. in one and the same day. and inflicted with a paternal tenderness. it would have been with them longer still. thou diest because thou art living. given time for the license and pleasures of thy youth. who so greedily sought diseases to eep their virtue in breath and exercise? Put the case that nature sets thee on and impels thee to this glorious school. The fear and the compassion that the people have of this disease serve thee for matter of glory. whence thou hast more cause to hope that it will one day surprise thee without menace. at least thou sha est hands with it once a month. both in good and evil. or if they easily slide and slip into the path that leads us to it? But thou dost not die because thou art sic . that hold them in continual torment. to urine thic . common necessity will soon call thee away. what patience! Thou art seen to sweat with pain. and to assume the resolution of a man of courage. were it not a good office to a man of such an age. thou hast no longer anything that should ma e thee desire to be cured. not forcing thee with a tyrannical subjection. to which may be added. and that thy reason has somewhat cured it. and weans thee from the world. 'Tis a pleasure to hear it said of one's self: what strength of mind. thy friends. while all the while thou entertainest the company with an ordinary countenance. so in diseases. that cruelly pric s and tears the nec of the bladder. it presents to thee the state of thy entire condition. but still thin ing thyself to be upon the accustomed terms. to vomit blood. and representing thy suffering less than it is. and that being so often conducted to the water side. drolling by fits with thy people. having. which is. at times to let great tears drop from thine eyes. and one while a very cheerful and another an insupportable life. who have lived longer by reason that they thought themselves always dying. whereof if thou hast thy judgment purified. Do but consider how s illfully and gently she puts thee out of concern with life. intermixing long pauses of repose. to turn pale and red. and eep them in perpetual and unintermitted wea ness and pains. blac . To give thee means to judge aright. li e so many other infirmities which thou seest old men afflicted withal. discern some tincture in thy complexion. and sic ness has deferred death in some." "consider this chastisement. into which thou wouldst never have entered of thy own free will. but by warnings and instructions at intervals. to suffer strange contractions and convulsions. and if they had not bro en company. or to have it suppressed by some sharp and craggy stone. 'tis very easy in comparison of others. If thou embracest not death. as it were to give thee opportunity to meditate and ruminate upon thy lesson. ma ing one in a continuous discourse.

and all the while full of wea ness and fear. for 'tis then for a great while. Custom also ma es me hope better for the time to come. the conduct of this clearing out having so long continued. When Socrates. 'tis odds you relapse into some new distemper. and as any new symptom happens in my disease. and then of a cap. and I have now almost lived another. for. 'tis to be believed that nature will not alter her course. I never fail of finding matter of consolation from some favorable prognostic in my past experience. For want of natural memory. and its digestion being less perfect sends this crude matter to my idneys. felt the pleasure of that itching which the weight of them had caused in his legs. after his fetters were noc ed off. the infirmity draws toward an end. to lie with your wife. I am afraid. when it assaults me gently. Age wea ens the heat of my stomach. naturally. And besides. I come. in their greatest show. and cried out to the good fellow Aesop. to recover. by the voiding of a stone. when from an excessive pain. how they are lin ed together by a necessary connection. she forms and fashions me by use. to have ta en matter for a fine fable. I ma e one of paper. and that no other worse accident will happen than what I already feel. that I can distinguish them in the presence of one another. with better reason and less temerity of conjecture. since they changed their state. My idneys held out an age without alteration. having now almost passed through all sorts of examples. it claws me to purpose for a day or two. and so many steps to arrive at safety. hardens and habituates me. the condition of this disease is not unsuitable to my prompt and sudden complexion. I set it down. after a sic ness so near and so contiguous. so that by turns they follow and mutually beget one another. at a certain revolution. so free and full. or eat melons. and why not these excrements which furnish matter for gravel? But is there anything delightful in comparison of this sudden change. that there is no end on't: before they have unmuffled you of a erchief. to drin wine. say that nature has given us pain for the honor and service of pleasure and indolence. as the Sybil's leaves. how much does health seem the more pleasant to me. he rejoiced to consider the strict alliance between pain and pleasure. The stone has this privilege. that he ought out of this consideration. as by a flash of lightning. so that I can now within a little for how much I shall be quit." I am obliged to fortune for having so often assaulted me with the same sort of weapons. why. evils have their periods. that it carries itself clean off: whereas the other maladies always leave behind them some impression and alteration that render the body subject to a new disease. as if to ma e head against and dispute it with one another! As the Stoics say that vices are profitably introduced to give value to and to set off virtue.another be unexpectedly wafted over. peradventure. bris and vigorous excesses. as well as goods. so that they can no more petrify my phlegm. as it happens in our sudden and sharpest colics? Is there anything in the pain suffered. Those are                                       . and nature find out some other way of purgation. turning over these little loose notes. There is so much hazard. Years have evidently helped me to drain certain rheums. if anything astounding threatens me. but it has. may not the heat of my idneys be also abated. A man cannot reasonably complain of diseases that fairly divide the time with health. when they appear in emulation. The worst that I see in other diseases is. that one can counterpoise to the pleasure of so sudden an amendment? Oh. whence it falls out that. and lend a hand to one another. we can. the beautiful light of health. that they are not so grievous in their effect. as they are in their issue: a man is a whole year in recovering. before they allow you to wal abroad and ta e the air.

That this is true: I am come to that pass of late. bring us to our graves? So that when I have the stone. and abandons herself. on the other hand. wea and strong. when free from it. in short. digest my peccant humors. as an absolute deliverance. for that matter. as Cicero with the disease of his old age. overwhelmed with an epilepsy. so many caustics. I argue that the extreme and frequent vomitings that I am subject to. and the tongue. if anything goes amiss with her. disturb our whole order. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 125} And here is another particular benefit of my disease. than I was before. and the most noble parts. it leaves the understanding and the will wholly at our own disposal. and. rac our actions after another ind of manner. and to dress its wounds. your debauch will do you more good than harm. which is. Do but endure only. 'tis her own fault. and to their consideration engage the whole state of life: this only pinches the s in. run. nevertheless. in its greatest fury. that it is a disease wherein we have little to guess at: we are dispensed from the trouble into which other diseases throw us by the uncertainty of their causes. thereby to put                                         . and so many other methods of cure. the hands. which often. as an excrement henceforward superfluous and troublesome. I try to roc asleep and amuse my imagination. there is nothing to be done but to give it passage. with those stones. I loo upon it as physic. my distastes for this and that. as before. the senses well enough inform us both what it is and where it is. astounded by all the diseases that hurt the whole mass. by reason we are not able to undergo their violence and importunity. If I find them worse to-morrow. when it is once stirred. dine. for. The other diseases have more universal obligations. purge me: and. setons. dismounts. methin s. much more. Since I have been troubled with the stone. 'tis some great stone that wastes and consumes the substance of my idneys and my life. you need no other regimen: play. and ride after my hounds with a juvenile and insolent ardor. it will itself ma e one. this never meddles with the soul. By such li e arguments. and have never had any fever since. that this hard and massive body which is ba ed in our idneys is to be dissolved by drin s. and nature. not without some natural pleasure. voids whatever there is in me superfluous and hurtful. the gout. when it costs me no more but a dull heaviness and uneasiness in that part. and the strange fasts I am forced to eep. I find myself freed from all other accidents. if you can. Now if I feel anything stirring. I will provide new stratagems. and introducing their followers. I moreover observe this particular convenience in it. There are none but fools who suffer themselves to be persuaded. and hold that I have very good satisfaction for an accident of that importance. wherefore. that the least motion forces pure blood out of my idneys: what of that? I move about. say as much to one that has the pox. sweats. and progress.excusable that content themselves with possessing us. and lets me play mine. a trouble that is infinitely painful: we have no need of consultations and doctoral interpretations. and the feet. but courteous and ind are those whose passage brings us any profitable issue. I have endured it ten hours together on horsebac . and displaced by a sharp megrim. incisions. it rather awa ens than stupefies you. do not fancy that I trouble myself to consult my pulse or my urine. or hernia. diets. The soul is struc with the ardor of a fever. do this and t'other. if I have only courage to do it. that it always plays its game by itself. without extending farther. conditions. which I by little and little evacuate. she betrays. Let them never tell me that it is a medicine too dear bought: for what avail so many stin ing draughts. and.

I wean myself to my advantage. they give me at need warm cloths to lay at my feet and stomach. in all other accidents I see few signs of the future. to sleep eight or nine hours together. I get up to the breech in dirt. I bestir myself with great difficulty. whereon we may ground our divination. I love to lie hard and alone. There is no profession more pleasant than the military. with my heels as high or higher than my seat. as well as any one. and such as ma e me sweat. They found fault with the great Scipio. I give way and accommodate myself. being. and little fellows as I am are subject in the streets to be elbowed and jostled. I formerly attributed the cause of the fevers and other diseases I fell into. nor sup till after six. and quite free from these dangerous attac s. to necessity. for want of presence. than that men were displeased. since I am resolved to bring nothing to it but expectation and patience? Will you now how much I get by this? observe those who do otherwise. There is nothing that ought so much to be recommended to youth as activity and vigilance: our life is nothing but movement. already suffers what he fears. a profession both noble in its execution (for valor is the stoutest. Sleeping has ta en up a great part of my life. I have ever loved to repose myself. that he was a great sleeper. from this propension to sloth. I only judge of myself by actual sensation. all the while quite at my ease. without ma ing it more and longer. and am evidently the better for so doing. and so much the more obliged to the favor of God. proudest. and well covered with clothes. without any bodily pain. how often the imagination presses upon them. Plato is more angry at excess of sleeping. but not of a violent or sudden agitation.myself upon some annoying prevention. at the age I now am. on foot. He who fears he shall suffer. to the heaviness that long sleeping had brought upon me. 'tis rather in my lying than anything else. Old age excepted. I never dine before eleven. and noble in its cause: there is no utility either more universal or more just. ought to give us to understand that her ways are inscrutable and utterly un nown. not. and I see but few who live with less sleep. for any other reason. but in three days 'tis over. and am slow in everything. and where I rule. I find the change a little hard indeed. or to whom long journeys are less troublesome. wherein my limbs grow weary before they are hot. whether in rising. whether sitting or lying. being well and in safety. They never warm my bed. generally. by the disease of fear. and am never weary of wal ing: but from my youth. I shall soon enough feel the pain. I can stand a whole day together. but since I have grown old. going to bed. If I am anything fastidious in my way of living. and who rely upon so many diverse persuasions and counsels. and obscurity in what she either promises or threatens. when need requires. variety. I have ever preferred to ride upon paved roads. My body is capable of a firm. than at excess of drin ing. that he alone should have nothing in him to be found fault with. and have ever repented going to sleep again in the morning. I evade of late violent exercises. or eating: seven of the cloc in the morning is early for me. that the doubts and ignorance of those who ta e upon them to expound the designs of nature and her internal progressions. I have many times amused myself. than the                       . not by reasoning: to what end. but. there is great uncertainty. To which may be added. in my opinion. and I yet continue. which is an indubitable sign of the approach of death. I underwent the decree of their dreadful conclusions. and the many false prognostics of their art. and who more constantly exercise themselves. as ings do. even without my wife. and better satisfied of the vanity of this art. and most generous of all virtues). in communicating them to the physicians as then beginning to discover themselves in me.

according as you judge of their luster and importance. I have passed the age to which some nations. that they would not suffer men to exceed it. as it commonly is. is for a heart that is poor and mean beyond all measure: company encourages even children. my friends often pity me. moreover. you have third causes to blame for that. not to dare to do what so many sorts of souls. more languishing and troublesome in bed than in battle. in strength. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 130} "Pulchrumque mori succurrit in armis. and. are delightful to you. My stomach is commodiously good. please you. but they were deceived. need not raise his courage to be a soldier. the freedom of the conversation. which are often apt to itch. or fortune. he ma es women and children share in them. and. you can blame no one for that but yourself. in his Republic.protection of the peace and grandeur of one's country. a volunteer. mi Lucili." To fear common dangers that concern so great a multitude of men. You put yourselves voluntarily upon particular exploits and hazards. but the smart follows too near. Death is more abject. for the most part. the honor of this occupation. according to my rule. find even life itself excusably employed. a masculine and unceremonious way of living. though short and inconstant. attributed it to the mind and to some secret passion that tormented me within. but to give place to them in stability of mind. "Vivere." {BK2_1 ^paragraph 140} My face and eyes presently discover my condition. and yet scratching is one of nature's sweetest gratifications. but. young. the variety of a thousand several actions. full of joy and satisfaction. If my body would govern itself as well. I use it most in my ears. without any great consequence. and appear somewhat worse than they really are. half by its design:           . If others excel you in nowledge. without art. and yet I have some intermissions. 'tis not reason they should follow me beyond their limits: "Non hoc amplius est liminis. Coelestis. we should move a little more at our ease. I do not spea of vigor and sprightliness. half by its complexion. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 135} I came into the world with all my senses entire. as my mind does. nay. uphold themselves so in the height of fevers. what a whole people dare. and active men delights you: the ordinary sight of so many tragic spectacles. patiens latus. so clean and sound as to be little inferior to the health and pleasantness of my youth. not finding any cause within answerable to that outward alteration. as also is my head and my breath. even to perfection. before I feel the cause in myself. even its hardships and difficulties. The company of so many noble. in gracefulness. My mind was then not only free from trouble. the encouraging harmony of martial music. which Plato holds so light that. fevers and catarrhs as painful and mortal as a mus et-shot. all my alteration begin there. and nearest at hand. that ravishes and inflames both your ears and souls. have prescribed so just a term of life. militare est. aut aquae. not without reason. Whoever has fortified himself valiantly to bear the accidents of common life." I do not remember that I ever had the itch. My loo ing-glass does not frighten me: for even in my youth it has befallen me more than once to have a scurvy complexion and of ill prognostic. so that the physicians.

Quaeque agunt vigilantes. and march-panes. the philosopher. commonly produced from pleasant thoughts. cogitant. I have seen several of my time wonderfully disturbed by them. the wea ness and languor do not much afflict me. I am easily satisfied with few dishes. this is often depressed. which have awa ened without afflicting me. relate. contrary to the custom of the country. if not calm. Theon. that made me loo miserably ill. as a ind of overnicety. my mind was always. and I believe it to be true that dreams are faithful interpreters of our inclinations. I see various corporal faintings. without any agitation of body or expression of voice. that 'tis the office of prudence to draw instructions of divination of future things from dreams. I don't now about this. Xenophon. forasmuch as it is. except those of desire. for Pythagoras ordered a certain preparation of diet to beget appropriate dreams. and set a plate of another sort before you. A confusion of meats and a clutter of dishes displease me as much as any other confusion. but ta e the next at hand. but there are wonderful instances of it that Socrates. vident. yet pleasant. Historians say that the Atlantes never dream. who also never eat any animal food." I am of the opinion that this temperature of my soul has often raised my body from its lapses. quae in vita usurpant homines. and that upon the tiles and top of the house. If the pain be without me. but there is art required to sort and understand them: {BK2_1 ^paragraph 150} "Res. I usually eat salt meats. wal ed in his sleep. and so did Pericles' servant. I have had few thoughts in my life that have so much as bro en my sleep. and rather ridiculous than sad. which yet I should less fear than a thousand passions and agitations of the mind that I see about me. and yet I love bread that has no salt in it. and then of chimeras and fantastic things. and indeed 'tis nothing else but a difficulty of taste. as sugar. men of irreproachable authority. if you do not sate your guests with the rumps of various fowls. in anything it applies itself to. Mine are very gentle. the reason why they never dream. sweetmeats. that beget a horror in me but to name. and that 'tis a pitiful supper. 'tis at least tranquil and at rest."Nec vitiant artus aegrae contagia mentis. In my infancy.                           . and unwillingly change it for another. I dream but seldom. Minus mirandum est. and Aristotle. I ma e up my mind no more to run. agitantque. which I add. peradventure. what they had most to correct in me was the refusal of things that children commonly best love. I have no reason to complain of my imagination. if the other be not bris and gay. 'tis enough that I can crawl along. I hardly ever choose my dish at table. and am an enemy to the opinion of Favorinus that in a feast they should snatch from you the meat you li e. My tutor contended with this aversion to delicate things. I had a quartan ague four or five months. nor do I more complain of the natural decadence that I feel in myself: {BK2_1 ^paragraph 145} "Quis tumidum guttur miratur in Alpibus?" than I regret that my duration shall not be as long and entire as that of an oa ." Plato moreover says. ea si cui in somno accidunt. the beccafico only deserving to be all eaten. curant. and my ba er never sends up other to my table.

admitting. that. Therefore it is that at my own house." There is. be it for want of moderation. that he provided me godfathers of the meanest fortune. 'tis the taste of effeminacy that disrelishes ordinary and accustomed things. and bravely turned to her husband's side. leave it to custom to train them up to frugality and hardship. stuc close to her father in all his misery and exile. and where she could best manifest her compassion. by being in our galleys. that they may rather descend from rigors than mount up to them. indeed. I am naturally more apt to follow the example of Flaminius. This humor of his yet aimed at another end to ma e me familiar with the people and the condition of men who most need our assistance. in opposition to the conqueror. but 'tis always vice to oblige one's self: I formerly said a insman of mine was overnice. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 160} Long sittings at meat both trouble me and do me harm. There are some who affect temperance and plainness. she. in the commotion of her city. I eat all the while I sit. and there continued me all the while I was at nurse. by wishing for beef and ham among pheasant and partridge. under popular and natural laws. bacon. as it appears to me. and still longer." Never ta e upon yourselves. I have an inclination toward the meaner sort of people. who was of an humor to truc le under the great. whether upon the account of the more honor in such a condescension. is the essence of this vice: {BK2_1 ^paragraph 155} "Si modica coenare times olus omne patella. considering that I should rather regard them who extend their arms to me. or garlic. daughter and wife to ings of Sparta! while her husband. I usually sit down a                       . had the advantage over Leonidas. and much less give up to your wives. flourishing and successful. whom she accompanied throughout where his ruin carried him. who.Whoever cures a child of an obstinate li ing for brown bread. or that I was so accustomed when a child. If I had any sons I should willingly wish them my fortune: the good father that God gave me. The faction which I should condemn in our civil wars. and to domineer over the poor. who rather gave his assistance to those who had most need of him than to those who had power to do him good. How much do I admire the generous humor of Chelonis. Nor has his design succeeded altogether ill: for. this difference. Cleombrotus. and for this reason it was. had unlearned the use of beds and to undress when he went to sleep. should I see it miserable and overwhelmed. or out of a natural compassion that has a very great power over me. "Per quae luxuria divitiarum taedio ludit. 'tis all very fine. than those who turn their bac s upon me. cures him also of pampering his palate. she changed her will with the change of fortune. li e a good daughter. the care of their nourishment. than I do to that of Pyrrhus. for. no other choice than to cleave to the side that stood most in need of her. But so soon as the chance of war turned. who has nothing of me but the ac nowledgment of his goodness. it would half reconcile me to it. I should more sharply condemn. sent me from my cradle to be brought up in a poor village of his." Not to ma e good cheer with what another is enjoying. leave this to fortune. her father. though the meals there are of the shortest. this is delicacy upon delicacies. but truly 'tis a very hearty one. 'tis better to oblige one's appetite to things that are most easy to be had. bringing me up to the meanest and the most common way of living: "Magna pars libertatis est bene moratus venter. to oblige and attach me to them. and to be curious in what a man eats.

and prefer them very high. who perform all our actions post-haste. and to hear them tal . as greater stature. that it will be just and natural. and that part of my being and several others. as to several. very little boiled or roasted. that the death which is occasioned by wounds and diseases is violent. is of all others the most easy. limits the duration of life to threescore and ten years. others half dead. but withal. I have one tooth lately fallen out without drawing and without pain: it was the natural term of its duration. and who have concluded the most moderate measures to be the most perfect. eating and drin ing more deliberately than we do. receive a principal consolation in meditating my death. should always be pleasant: "Omnia. and that I shall not touch it. I. as is required for a prescribed collation. 'tis in vain to persuade me to forbear. but they deceive themselves. even to excellence. who was of those elder times. 'tis so I melt and steal away from myself. the last death will be so much the less painful. and in some sort delicious. and that henceforward I cannot herein either require or hope from destiny any other but unlawful favor. as much as I find it pleasant and very wholesome to argue and to strain my voice before dinner. after the manner of Augustus: but I do not imitate him in rising also before the rest of the company. When I order my coo to alter the manner of dressing any dish. "Vitam adolescentibus vis aufert. I must be ept apart from the supper-table. senibus maturitas. so that. God is favorable to those whom he ma es to die by degrees. that will endure it. contrary to the common humor. and must have only so much given me. for if I sit down to table. The ancient Gree s and Romans had more reason than we in sitting apart for eating. for I tire and hurt myself with spea ing upon a full stomach. I love to have all meats. They whose concern it is to have a care of me. and Solon. many hours and the greatest part of the night. and which age does but now begin to threaten: I have always been used every morning to rub them with a nap in." Death mixes and confounds itself throughout with                               . intermixing with their meals pleasant and profitable conversation. even in fish it often happens that I find them both too fresh and too firm: not for want of teeth. shall I pretend to an immeasurable and prodigious old age? Whatever happens contrary to the course of nature. as if it were from the very top! I hope I shall not. provided I am none of the tal ers. quae secundum naturam fiunt. but that which comes upon us. are already dead. all my family now what it means. and before and after dinner. old age conducting us to it. longer lives. of those that were most active. but what comes according to her. already so much advanced. who have so much and so universally adored that ariston metron of ancient times. may very easily hinder me from eating anything they thin will do me harm. I forget my resolution. if it once comes in my sight.little while after the rest. quite gone. I. for in such matters I never covet nor miss anything I do not see. I love to sit still a long time after. which I ever had good. Nothing but hardness generally offends me (of any other quality I am as patient and indifferent as any man I have nown)." And so Plato li ewise says. so that when I design to fast. 'tis the only benefit of old age. What a folly it would be in my understanding. that my stomach is out of order. which is a principal action of life. it will ill but a quarter of a man or but half a one at most. and in highest esteem during my vigorous years. in truth. and even. and in extending this natural pleasure to more leisure and better use. Men ma e themselves believe that we formerly had. sunt habenda in bonis. if they were not prevented by other extraordinary business. to apprehend the height of this fall. may be troublesome. on the contrary. so.

either to sharpen my appetite against the next morning (for. we harden ourselves in it. but I would have appetite and hunger attended to. if I have a good appetite in the morning. for I say. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 165} I am a great lover of fish.or to cure my sic stomach. that it is more easy of digestion than flesh.. to eep my head warmer. My father hated all sorts of sauces. you shall find your stomach so inured to it. legs. as to the quality of what I eat. neither have I observed that either full moon or decrease. and leave to almanac ma ers hopes and prognostics. and feasts fasts: and I believe what some people say. I have suffered myself. since that nauseous. so does my taste ma e a conscience of mixing fish and flesh. decay anticipates its hour. I should ta e no pleasure to be fed with three or four pitiful and stinted repasts a day. to the mercy of a foreign and begged assistance. bloated with the fumes of his liquor. I thin it more wholesome to eat more leisurely and less. and I commend Chilo. and. I found radishes first grateful to my stomach. one simple pair of sil stoc ings is all. and consequently ma e my fasts feasts. I do not yet certainly now that any sort of meat disagrees with my stomach. on the contrary. being weary of following us herself. I find my stomach and appetite vary after the same manner. as with whom. but. for both the one and the other of these is cruelly dulled in me by repletion. who will assure me. The utmost fruit of my health is pleasure. As I ma e a conscience of eating flesh upon the fish-days. I. let us ta e the first opportune time of eating. I have changed again and again from white wine to claret. and my belly on                                             . I shall have the same at supper? But. In several other things. from claret to white. do it to prepare my pleasure to ma e better and more cheerful use of abundance). and abandon our conduct. or else I fasted to preserve my vigor for the service of some action of body or mind. spring or autumn. six months after. how much more is my present image unli e the former. as Epicurus fasted and made lean meals to accustom his pleasure to ma e shift without abundance. let us ta e hold of the present and nown. no dish is so acceptable to me. our eyes. teeth. for the relief of my colds. I have portraits of myself ta en at five and twenty. or for want of fit company. our strength is there stupefied and laid asleep.life. We have in us notions that are inconstant and for which no reason can be given: for example. I compare them with that lately drawn. that he would not engage himself to be at Periander's feast till he first was informed who were to be the other guests. how variously is it no longer me. I never eep my legs and thighs warmer in winter than in summer. that. and now again grateful. From my youth. and five and thirty years of age. have any influence upon me. and to eat oftener. and shoulders itself even into the course of our advance. as that which is extracted from society. that all you have got is the loss of your liberty of doing otherwise but to your prejudice. after a medicinal manner. than unli e that I shall go out of the world with? It is too much to abuse nature. let him avoid the continuing it. and all the rest. he who would have one form serve him. as the same Epicurus did. I hate that foolish coupling of so healthful and sprightly a goddess with that little belching god. to ma e her trot so far that she must be forced to leave us. I love them all. I avoid the invariable in these laws of fasting. and to resign us into the hands of art. the difference between them seems to me too remote. except melons. nor no sauce so appetizing. we old fellows especially. that one is not so much to regard what he eats. I am not very fond either of salads or fruits. Eating too much hurts me. above all things. I have sometimes ept out of the way at meals.

about three half-pints. it is much more commodious. and found my eyes much relieved by it. follow this gradation. my diseases in a few days habituated themselves thereto. I am not very used to be thirsty. which other people avoid as an unbecoming thing. without brea ing up a day. as the ancients did. in those times when I was more wont to read. and you will go a very fine way to wor . but not to offend Democritus' rule who forbade that men should stop at four times as an unluc y number. I do not only exceed the limits of Augustus. and I can see as far as ever I did. apt to be dry. or any other. and so was I formerly used to do. for. in summer. 'Tis said. to lose one's dinner. was the inventor of this custom of dashing wine with water. I since by experience find. I shall retire another. If you fall into any new inconvenience. the trimmings of the doublet must not merely serve for ornament. were the chimneys and houses of office. I proceed at need to the fifth glass. sometimes with the third part water. especially by night. from the second to the third. for the little glasses are my favorites. but without thirst. I rec on the cho ing dust they ma e us ride in a whole day together. they mix that which is designed for me in the buttery. see out some other. and besides the force of the sunbeams that stri e upon the head. precisely. on the contrary. and when I am at home. I laid a piece of glass upon my boo . besides the incommodity of heat. ing of Athens. whether useful or no. I thin it more decent and wholesome for children to drin no wine till after sixteen or eighteen years of age. and commonly I never drin but with thirst that is created by eating. and I li e to drin them off. I mix my wine sometimes with half. Public usage gives the law in these things. there is no end on't. all particularity. my mouth is. all this is labor lost. and a cap under the hat. from a simple cap to a quilted hat. they must add something more. so that I could not now sit at dinner over against a flaming fire. and something more after that. Thus do they destroy themselves. and far on in the meal. all glittering light offends my eyes. I drin pretty well for a man of my pitch. The most usual and common method of living is the most becoming. there must be added a hare's s in or a vulture's s in. 'Tis true. two or three hours before 'tis brought in. and fly from smo e as from the plague. To dull the whiteness of paper. For what concerns our affairs and pleasures. that Cranaus. that in the evening I begin to find a little disturbance and wea ness in my sight if I read. and without a cough. and defer ma ing good cheer till the hour of retirement and repose. an exercise I have always found troublesome. who submit to be pestered with these enforced and superstitious rules. and among the difficulties of war. I am to this hour ignorant of the use of spectacles. either well or sic . is to be avoided. less remediable than cold. As to health. indeed. I fear a fog. I have a free and easy respiration. and I should as much hate a German who mixed water with his wine. that it is better to dine. the first repairs I fell upon in my own house. in my opinion. the common and insupportable defects of all old buildings. and would willingly leave off what I have begun.                                                       . I have heard disputed. and disdained my ordinary provisions. you are accustomed to it. and that the digestion is better while awa e. as I should a Frenchman who dran it pure. we soon get from a coif to a erchief over it. Here is one step bac and a very manifest one. and my colds for the most part go off without offense to the lungs. by an ancient custom that my father's physician prescribed both to him and himself.the account of my colic. and at a relishing meal. who dran but thrice. I will do nothing of the sort. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 170} The heat of summer is more an enemy to me than the cold of winter.

besides the hurt it does to one's health. upon several occasions in my more flourishing age. and I now not which of the two. that it might not disturb the entertainment of discourse. according to the good temper of body and mind wherein he then finds himself. which fortune rendered sovereignly sweet to me. furnishes for his own share a particular grace and savor. so gently. when the wine having made all his companions drun . banished even music from the table. I could never order it so. and sometimes my fingers. that puts us out of taste with them as with itself. a little too warmly and indly. I lose thereby the leisure of spea ing. that I shall be star blind before I shall be sensible of the age and decay of my sight." The art of dining well is no slight art. That preacher is very much my friend who can oblige my attention a whole sermon through. so much stirring and unsettledness there is in them. A man should neither pursue nor avoid them.and so to the fourth. with which men of understanding now how to entertain one another. one while better. Xerxes was a coxcombical bloc head who. and even to the pleasure of eating. than s to our sic wet-blan et mind. my mind or my body. when I shall still lay the fault on the voices of those who spea to me. the pleasure not a slight pleasure. I often bite my tongue. in places of ceremony. pleasant and short. in my haste. with a good grace. as Plato tells us. and easily suffer myself to follow my natural propensions.                                                     . for every one. environed with all human delights. neither the greatest captains nor the greatest philosophers have disdained the use or science of eating well. as well as to wal . and you will see I shall have half lost it. it may have been said of me from my infancy that I had either folly or quic silver in my feet. it treats both itself and all it receives. who are neither silent nor babblers. I was never settled. where I have seen the ladies eep even their eyes so fixed. I receive them. My imagination has delivered three repasts to the custody of my memory. We have no need to exaggerate their inanity. but receive them. they themselves will ma e us sufficiently sensible of it. 'Tis indecent. for want of good discourse and pleasant tal . a man who well understood how to ma e good cheer. I have most to do to eep in the same state. I loo upon it as an equal injustice to loathe natural pleasures as to be too much in love with them." Varro requires all this in entertainments: "Persons of graceful presence and agreeable conversation. he found no alteration in himself at all. gave his tutor a box on the ear. There is jealousy and envy among our pleasures. My wal ing is quic and firm. neatness and delicacy. for it was his custom to be always ic ing them about in what place soever he sat. hate this inhuman wisdom. I. As the philosopher Chrysippus' maid said of her master. and fair weather. who but crawl upon the earth. where every one's countenance is so starched. to ma e it sensible how it ebbs away. and she said it. to eat so greedily as I do. Diogenes meeting a boy eating after that manner. wherever they are placed. so that though I was seated. so artificially do the Fatal sisters untwist our lives. for the reason. provided the discourse be suitable. that some part or other of me did not lash out. that is. proposed a reward to him who could find out others. There were men at Rome that taught people to chew. that will have us despise and hate all culture of the body. but he is not much less so who cuts off any of those pleasures that nature has provided for him. A man must screw up his soul to a high pitch. I confess. that he was only drun in his legs. Alcibiades. which gives great relish to the dinner-table. "that it is the custom of ordinary people to call fiddlers and singing men to feasts. both of meat and place. they cross and hinder one another. my present state excludes me. And so I doubt whether my hearing begins to grow thic .

both of them faultily. Why do they not. Will they not see the quadrature of the circle. it ma es them to its own li ing. I sleep. I would not have the mind nailed there. and sensibly intellectual. of this I every day see notable examples. when I most nearly consider them." What? have you not lived? that is not only the fundamental. "Had I been put to the management of great affairs. and to myself. and. but not lie down. Ceres. Nay. There are some. followed a philosophy that was all contemplation. say some. and 'tis injustice to infringe her laws. who am of a mixed and heavy condition. that the actions she has enjoined us for our necessity should be also pleasant to us. I should have made it                                 . instead of Venus. I some part of the time call them bac again to my wal . moreover. I dance. but also by appetite." I. according to its insatiable. The Cyrenaic philosophers will have it that as corporal pains. without desiring stability and solidity. and I now others who out of ambition do the same. acescit. and costs them neither pains nor invention? Let Mars. Socrates one that was all conduct and action. are the greatest. But I. forswear breathing? why do they not live of their own? why not refuse light. so fully enjoy human and corporal pleasures. When I dance. to the orchard. when our bodies are at table. had they believed the last was their ordinary. and cuts them out of the whole cloth. who out of a savage ind of stupidity disli e them. as well as the pure displeasures. and contents itself with its proper offices. 'Tis no wonder. and Bacchus. Pythagoras. Nature has with a motherly tenderness observed this. "He has passed over his life in idleness. to be desired. they say. not only by reason. so corporal pleasures are more powerful. intellectually sensible. more discreet than we. find them. as if he had no soul. if my thoughts are some part of the time ta en up with foreign occurrences. But what? We are all wind throughout. even when on their wives? I hate that we should be enjoined to have our minds in the clouds. I do not hold that they slac ened their souls.and another worse. subjecting these violent employments and laborious thoughts to the ordinary usage of life. very little more than wind. The true point is found in Socrates. Pallas. and it becomes him better. as if he had no body. but wound them up higher. who boast that I so curiously and particularly embrace the conveniences of life. as was expressed by the balance of Critolaus. I would have it ta e place there and sit. Zeno stic led only for the soul. Aristippus maintained nothing but the body.qualities that nothing belong to it. Plato found a mean between the two. the first their extroardinary vocation. of the imagination. but the most illustrious of all your occupations. because it shines gratis. when I sleep. and versatile essence: {BK2_1 ^paragraph 175} "Sincerum est nisi vas. but they only say this for the sa e of tal ing. peradventure. vagabond. when I wal alone in a beautiful orchard. When I see both Caesar and Alexander in the thic est of their greatest business. loves to bluster and shift from corner to corner. The pure pleasures. by vigor of courage. nor wallow there." say we: "I have done nothing to-day. cannot snap so soon at this one simple object. or Mercury afford them their light by which to see. quodcunque infundis. moreover. to the sweetness of the solitude. as Aristotle says. wise. the wind itself. and Plato is much more Socratic than Pythagoric. We are great fools. but that I negligently suffer myself to be carried away with the present pleasures of the general human law. and she invites us to them. both as double and as more just. and.

{BK2_1 ^paragraph 180} The great and glorious masterpiece of man is to now how to live to purpose. or having his head full of that wonderful enterprise of Hannibal and Africa. at the foot of a breach he is presently to assault. you have performed the greatest wor of all. visiting the schools in Sicily. The conscience of having well spent the other hours. standing upon his feet a whole day and a night together. as they have profitably and seriously employed the morning in the exercise of their schools." Have you nown how to meditate and manage your life. 'Tis for little souls. and that inimitable emulation to virtue. but this same man was seen in an ecstasy. For a man to show and set out himself. to reign. that humor of theirs. are. there is nothing that gives him a greater grace than to see him carelessly and childishly trifling at gathering and selecting shells. in the presence of all                                     . Have you nown how to regulate your conduct. nature has no need of fortune. wonderfully honor and best become a strong and generous soul. old as he was. you have done more than he who has ta en cities and empires. give himself up entire and free at dinner. methin s. that truc le under the weight of affairs. that the theological and Sorbonical wine. and. so severe as even to be importunate. of Venus and Bacchus. I delight to see a general of an army. to lay up treasure. all other things. Have you nown how to ta e repose. she equally manifests herself in all stages. and thought it time well spent. Nor is there anything more remar able in Socrates than that. not to now how to lay them aside and ta e them up again: "O fortes." {BK2_1 ^paragraph 185} Whether it be in jest or earnest. stealing some hours of the night from his rounds to read and abridge Polybius. and their feasts. to see Brutus. is the just and savory sauce of the dinner-table. at most. And among so many admirable actions of Scipio. if it was foul weather. and that heartily. according to the precepts of their sect. Epaminondas did not thin that to ta e part. in all security. were things that in any way derogated from the honor of his glorious victories and the perfect purity of manners that was in him. I find it reasonable they should dine so much more commodiously and pleasantly. to build." Relaxation and facility. and attending philosophical lectures. gently submits itself and yields to the laws of the human condition. are turned into a proverb. and playing at quoits upon the seashore with Laelius. ei et sapiat palatus. you have done a great deal more than he who has composed boo s. in songs and sports and dances with the young men of his city.seen what I could do. the grandfather. The sages lived after that manner. improving himself. pejoraque passi Mecum saepe viri! nunc vino pellite curas: Cras ingens iterabimus aequor. not from them to now how clearly to disengage themselves. a person worthy to be reputed of a heavenly extraction. amusing and pleasing himself in representing by writing in comedies the meanest and most popular actions of men. but little appendices and props. when heaven and earth were conspired against him and the Roman liberty. and behind a curtain as well as without one. which astonishes us both in the one and the other Cato. to tal and be merry with his friends. that require the perfect sage to be as expert and intelligent in the use of natural pleasures as in all other duties of life: "Cui cor sapiat. he found time to ma e himself taught dancing and playing upon instruments. to the blind envy of his enemies at Rome.

and the claws of his wife. and disengaged him from the crowd. but rather its seasoning. oppressed with the enemy. poverty. and demonstrates itself better in moderate than in eminent things. The people deceive themselves. among so many valiant men of the army. in the Delian battle. equally become and equally honor a wise man. surprised and ravished with some profound thought. imprisonment. do it if he can: but. who set so high a value upon it. corrupters rather than correctors of manners. enraged as he was at so unworthy a spectacle. as in nowing how to govern and circumscribe itself. bringing to it. with whom the advantage in drin ing remained. to propose to ourselves those that are wea and imperfect. with the same countenance. and temperance is not its scourge. otherwise. tyranny. Whoever has a mind to send his soul abroad. and not refuse to participate of its natural pleasures with a conjugal complacency. full and pure. and wal upon ice. He was seen. calumny. by absolute force of arms. first presented himself to rescue Theramenes. scarce good for any one service. It was he who. which in them was singular and exemplary. with bare feet. by all means. who therein established the sovereign good. And he never refused to play at cob-nut. moderation. There is nothing so fine and legitimate as well and duly to play the man. to surpass all his companions in patience of bearing hardships. and. in the end. but the one gayly and the other severely. and desisted not from his bold enterprise but at the remonstrance of Theramenes himself. Grandeur of soul consists not so much in mounting and in pressing forward. and who. though he was only followed by two more in all. I enjoin my soul to loo upon pain and pleasure with an eye equally regular. and according to art. He was seen. large and open. Intemperance is the pest of pleasure. We have enough wherewithal to do it. lest by indiscretion they should get confounded with pleasure. nor to ride the hobby-horse with children. and his companions. He was seen ever to go to the wars. and of all the infirmities we have. 'tis the most savage to despise our being. whom the thirty tyrants were hauling to execution by their satellites. by the means of temperance. so far as it is able." and equally firm. where the extremity serves for a bound.the Grecian army. and poison. to be as careful to extinguish the one. than by the middle way. if it be the wiser. when the body is ill at ease. as to extend the other. let him on the contrary favor and assist it. tasted it in its most charming sweetness. for all actions. and. There are very few examples of life. more than according to nature: but withal much less nobly and commendably. to wear the same robe winter and summer. raised and saved Xenophon when fallen from his horse. to endure hunger. ran to the relief of Alcibiades. for seven and twenty years together. and it became him well. and we wrong our teaching every day. let him. and rather pull us bac . when courted by a beauty with whom he was in love. a stop. to maintain at need a severe abstinence. shielded him with his own body. pain has                   . He was the first who. and to eat no more at a feast than at his own private dinner. says philosophy. and we ought never to be weary of presenting the image of this great man in all the patterns and forms of perfections. to preserve it from the contagion. and guide. a man goes much more easily indeed by the ends. among all the people of Athens. "Eodem enim vitio est effusio animi in laetitia. nor science so arduous as well and naturally to now how to live this life. the indocility of his children. The judging rightly of good brings along with it the judging soundly of evil. quo in dolore contractio. Eudoxus. it ta es everything for great. But was this man obliged to drin full bumpers by any rule of civility? he was also the man of the whole army. fetters. that is enough.

and I bend my reason. Pain. which way soever it turns                             . or slide unprofitably away: "Stulti vita ingrata est. but sound it. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 190} I have a special nomenclature of my own. man. but not to drun enness. so that I might the better and more sensibly relish and taste it. now grown perverse and peevish. that is virtue. "I taste it over again and stic to it. to weigh and appreciate its happiness. but to be present there. as well as they. to entertain it. tota in futurum fertur. without nowing it. for the measure of its fruition depends upon the more or less of our application to it. as much as they can. represents the usage of those wise sort of people who thin they cannot do better with their lives than to let them run out and slide away. not there to engage itself. and I employ it. and to amplify it. There is good husbandry in enjoying it. and pleasure something of the evitable in its excessive end. that it has the body in its natural disposition. and bal them. Now especially that I perceive mine to be so short in time. by how much the possession of living is more short. and shun them as a thing of troublesome and contemptible quality. but when 'tis good I do not pass it away. I do not s im over. and find it both valuable and commodious. I compose myself to lose mine without regret. I "pass away time. love. and. trepida est. excepting such as are pleased to live. They enjoy the other pleasures as they do that of sleep. The first is to be ta en medicinally and upon necessity. not there to lose itself. Nor does it properly well become any not to be displeased when they die. not that it troubles or annoys me." one must run over the ill. I have formerly caused myself to be disturbed in my sleep. I feel it too. on its part. but therein to ta e delight. pass them over. that we have only ourselves to blame if it be troublesome to us. even in its latest decay. that. but I now it to be another ind of thing. and passing away the time. Others feel the pleasure of content and prosperity. and against the immoderate and charming blandishments of pleasure. It rec ons how much it stands indebted to Almighty God that its conscience and the intestine passions are in repose. orderly and competently enjoying the soft and soothing functions. This ordinary phrase of pastime. by which He of His grace is pleased to compensate the sufferings wherewith His justice at His good pleasure chastises us. I enjoy it double to what others do. I associate my soul to it too. pleasure. they apply it to themselves. whether city." when it is ill and uneasy. the other for thirst. I must ma e it so much deeper and more full. To the end that even sleep itself should not so stupidly escape from me. I will stop the promptitude of its flight by the promptitude of my grasp. and wills that it should be equally the office of fortitude to fight against pain. or beast. when reason comes. wherein I now enjoy it. and hatred are the first things that a child is sensible of. and by the vigor of using it compensate the speed of its running away. when and as much as he needs. one should study. ignore them. and settle upon the good. is very fortunate. they are two fountains. It reflects how great a benefit it is to be so protected. to view itself in this prosperous state. and more scantily. I ponder with myself of content. and nature has delivered it into our hands in such and so favorable circumstances. from which whoever draws.something of the inevitable in its tender beginnings. Do I find myself in any calm composedness? is there any pleasure that tic les me? I do not suffer it to dally with my senses only. but not as it slides and passes by. I will extend it in weight. if. but withal as a thing that is perishable by its condition." Nevertheless. Plato couples them together. and ruminate upon it. taste. to render condign than s to Him who grants it to us.

unworthy to be tasted by a wise man. according to him. I love life. in a thousand aspects." For my part then. This. present.its eye. that its imagination may not pass over without offense. to my thin ing. with him. no difficulty. nor nerves. than in its lessons. I do not desire it should be without the necessity of eating and drin ing. what nature has done for me. with reverence be it spo en. Oh. suitable to my manners. bodily pleasure. He has made everything good: "Omnia quoe secundum naturam sunt. than prudent and just: "Intrandum est in rerum                     . A man does wrong to the great omnipotent Giver of all things. am well pleased with it. past. and cultivate it. the reasonable with the unreasonable. as he ought. but not more sweet and gentle. those whom fortune or their own error torments and carries away. to preach to us that 'tis a barbarous alliance to marry the divine with the earthly. troubles the air. and proud of it. I preferably embrace those that are most solid. and without titillation. facility. I accept indly. when it puts itself upon its Ergos. they pass over the present. No desire. as Alexander said. is a pleasure of his conscience to perform an action according to order. variety. who is its master and ours: he values. nor that we should stupidly beget children with our fingers or heels.he is not so fantasticbut only it goes first. that we might voluptuously beget them with our fingers and heels. to refuse. the severe with the indulgent. annul. but. that pleasure is a brutish quality. the honest with the dishonest. as having more force. so negligently and incuriously receive their good fortune. and dignity. the heavens are calm around it. in getting their wives' maidenhoods. goes by no means alone. cum quid superesset agendum. that is to say the most human. nor juice. or disfigure his gift." Of philosophical opinions. and with gratitude. that the sole pleasure he extracts from the enjoyment of a fair young wife. and I should thin myself inexcusable to wish it had been twice as long: "Sapiens divitiarum naturalium quaesitor accerimus:" nor that we should support ourselves by putting only a little of that drug into our mouths. not the adversary of pleasure. who more li e to me. that the end of his labor was to labor: "Nil actum credens. that its followers had no more right. and for vain shadows and images which fancy puts into their heads: "Morte obita quales fama est volitare figuras. Aut quae sopitos deludunt somnia sensus:" {BK2_1 ^paragraph 195} which hasten and prolong their flight. and that which they possess. rather. but he prefers that of the mind. no fear or doubt. by which Epimenides too away his appetite. This consideration ta es great luster from the comparison of different conditions. {BK2_1 ^paragraph 200} That is not what Socrates says. and those. and ept himself alive. philosophy plays the child. all goodness Himself. as to put on his boots for a profitable journey. nor that the body should be without desire. Nature is a gentle guide. according as they are pursued. Those are men who pass away their time. and most our own: my discourse is. or to come. such as it has pleased God to bestow it upon us. indeed. constancy. oestimatione digna sunt. temperance. low and humble. The fruit and end of their pursuit is to pursue. to give themselves up to hope. and therefore it is that I present to my thought. These are ungrateful and wic ed complaints. is the moderatrix.

without disassociating itself from the body." said he. there will yet remain a great deal that will be idle and ill employed. ignave et contumaciter facere. non veritate divina. Between ourselves. the gods always conspire. and that of the Stoics. alio animum. let the mind rouse and quic en the heaviness of the body. Though they were the ecstasies of Archimedes himself. what then? I do not here spea of. naturam carnis accusat. prepossessing the use of the eternal nourishment. Authority has alone power to wor upon common understandings. some day. and the principal injunction of all. distrahique inter diversissimos motus?" To ma e this apparent. on the contrary. and incorruptible pleasure. as this wise meditation of his (for the most part we had better sleep than wa e to the purpose we wa e). li e high and inaccessible cliffs and precipices. et. quae facienda sunt. The mind has not other hours enough wherein to do its business. and the Creator has seriously and strictly enjoined it. by this means. pervidendum. to conduct man according to his condition. and that academic and peripatetic good. they transform themselves into beasts. I have ever observed supercelestial opinions and subterranean manners to be of singular accord. "to live according to it. which is." Is it not an error to esteem any actions less worthy. constant. even to a hair and 'tis no slight commission to man. there is nothing unworthy our care. and the vanity of the thoughts and desires that divert us. and escape from being men. that great man. and that his discourses and notions are not worth the worst mess there. that it is not a very convenient marriage of pleasure with necessity. because they are necessary? And yet they will not beat it out of my head. we stand accountable. we have confounded it with artificial traces. with which. upon the account of which he diverted his thoughts from a good meal. nothing so human in Plato as that for which they say he was called divine." becomes. et carnem carnaliter fugit. To what end do we dismember by divorce a building united by so close and brotherly a correspondence? Let us. who. quid ea postulet. says an ancient. nor mix with the rabble of us ordinary men. confirm it by mutual offices. then. as any one. These transcendental humors affright me. velut summum bonum. to tell you what whimsies and imaginations he put into his pate. and easily resign to the body the care and use of sensual and temporal pasture: 'tis a privileged study. the final aim and last step of Christian desires. by the energy of vivid and vehement hope. therefore let us again charge with it in this place: "Stultitiae proprium quis non dixerit. instead of transforming themselves into angels. and of our sciences. laudat animoe naturam. and regrets the time he spends in eating: you will find there is nothing so insipid in all the dishes at your table. cousin-german to it. fluid and ambiguous conveniences. the sole. and I find                     . et penitus. 'tis folly. and the body stay and fix the levity of the soul. hard to limit and explain. saw his master ma e water as he wal ed: "What.naturam. to a constant and conscientious meditation of divine things. "must we dung as we run?" Let us manage our time as well as we can. profecto et animam carnaliter appetit. "Qui." In this present that God has made us. elevated by the ardor of devotion and religion. quoniam id vanitate sentit humana. they lay themselves lower. plain. Aesop. in that little space it must have for its necessity. et alio corpus impellere. 'tis express. and nothing is hard for me to digest in the life of Socrates but his ecstacies and communication with demons. tanquam malum. those seem to be the most terrestrial and low that are highest mounted. disdain to apply themselves to our necessitous. and is of more weight in a foreign language. They would put themselves out of themselves." I hunt after her foot throughout. which is "to consent to nature. instead of elevating. those venerable souls.

Philotas pleasantly quipped him in his answer: he congratulated him by letter concerning the oracle of Jupiter Hammon. just in the nic of an affair: Monsieur d'Estree. with whom Pope Alexander VI. presented it forthwith to the pope. Cardinal of Corneto. I am glad of it. let it be gay and sociable. we must yet wal with our legs. and withal. Can there be a more express act of justice than this? The Du e of Valentinois having resolved to poison Adrian. et. but on the same day he was married. but only upon the account of its excellency. are those which regularly accommodate themselves to the common and human model. precor." "Diis te minorem quod geris. nec turpem senectam Degere.                               . We see other conditions. too him prisoner. which had placed him among the gods: "Upon thy account.. after having been long tormented with sic ness. "Frui paratis et valido mihi Latoe. the Sieur de Licques carried her. in my opinion. who exceeds and is not contented with the measure of a man. and calling for drin . proving the stronger." 'Tis an absolute and. lieutenant in the company of the Duc d'Ascot. but the men are to be pitied who are to live with a man. strict order to the butler to eep it very safe. Sometimes she seems to play upon us. is conformable to my sense: "By so much thou art a god. Let us recommend it to God. at that time ensign to Monsieur de Vendome. and the more to illustrate his victory. because we now not how there to reside. and which was worse." The pretty inscription wherewith the Athenians honored the entry of Pompey into their city. and the son.nothing so humble and mortal in the life of Alexander. 'Tis to much purpose to go upon stilts. before he went to bed to his wife. the protector of health and wisdom. a divine perfection. so that the father died immediately upon the spot. he sent before a bottle of poisoned wine." {BK2_2 II. we are but seated upon our breech. without miracle. without extravagance. The pope being come before his son. when upon stilts. the bridegroom having a mind to brea a lance in honor of his new bride. integra {BK2_1 ^paragraph 205} Cum mente. for a man to now how loyally to enjoy his being. but withal. were to sup in the Vatican. Old age stands a little in need of a more gentle treatment. as thou confessest thee a man. too also his cup. dones. though of several parties (as it oft falls out among frontier neighbors). being both pretenders to the Sieur de Fouquerolles' sister. for. The fairest lives. and being confident they had not meddled with his bottle. and go out of ourselves. Omer. went out to s irmish near St. as it were. as his fancies about his immortalization. the lady herself was fain{BK2_2 ^paragraph 5} "Conjugis ante coacta novi dimittere collum. the butler supposing this wine had not been so strictly recommended to his care. his father and himself. nec Cithara carentem. by reason we do not understand the use of our own. and to obey him. and when seated upon the most elevated throne in the world. imperas. and the du e himself coming in presently after. and Monsieur de Licques. was reserved to another and a worse fortune. where the Sieur d'Estree. THAT FORTUNE IS OFTENTIMES OBSERVED TO ACT BY THE RULES OF REASON THE inconstancy and various motions of fortune may reasonably ma e us expect she would present us with all sorts of faces.

Sometimes she is pleased to emulate our miracles: we are told. and concluding himself discovered and lost. against her will. And that man of old who. founded the empire of Constantinople. that the imposthume bro e and he was perfectly cured. vexed and angry at his wor . without any manner of violence. Sometimes she plays the physician. and laying open the full conspiracy. the walls fell down of themselves by divine favor: and Bouchet has it from some author. where she landed in safety. as he would. which by cleaning his pencils had imbibed several sorts of colors. the slaver and foam that should come out of its mouth. by reason of an imposthume in his breast. which the other seeing. that the besieged suffered no inconvenience by that attempt. These villains too their time to do it when he was assisting at a sacrifice. throwing a stone at a dog. in steps a third. that King Robert having sat down before a city. lays him dead upon the place and runs away. in all the other parts excellently well to his own li ing. that King Clovis besieging Angouleme. the wall was lifted from its base. with an attempt utterly to deface it. as they were ma ing signs to one another. promising to discover the whole truth. where he was so fortunately wounded quite through the body. threw himself in a battle desperately into the thic est of the enemy. put an end to it. for Captain Rense laying siege for us to the city Arona. runs to the altar and begs for mercy. as he accordingly did. Does she not seem to be an artist here? Constantine the son of Helen. against her husband. and thrusting into the crowd. but not being able to express.                         . and so exactly upon its foundation. Tantomaton emon challio bouleuetai. the son of Helen. {BK2_2 ^paragraph 15} Icetes had contracted with two soldiers to ill Timoleon at Adrana in Sicily. Aignan at Orleans. he too his sponge. who being apprehended. with an army. by death at least. whole and entire. and threw it in a rage against the picture. Does she not sometimes direct our counsels and correct them? Isabel. being there laid wait for by the enemy. and being stolen away from the siege to go eep the feast of St. was. hit and illed his mother-in-law.Quam veniens una atque altera rursus hyems Noctibus in longis avidum saturasset amorem" {BK2_2 ^paragraph 10} -to request him of courtesy. threw her into another haven. the walls of the beleaguered city. which as he was doing. in favor of her son. having to sail from Zealand unto her own ingdom. fell down with a sudden ruin. who with a sword ta es one of them full drive over the pate. that now was a fit time to do their business. to deliver up his prisoner to her. it there performed what all his art was not able to do. and so many ages after. had been lost. as a murderer. Jason of Pheres being given over by the physicians. queen of England. But she did quite contrary in our Milan war. having a mind to rid himself of his pain. as he was in devotion at a certain part of the mass. had he not reason to pronounce this verse. the gentlemen of France never denying anything to ladies. but dropped down again nevertheless. but fortune. behold the third man. the mine being sprung. had she come into the port she intended. and having carried a mine under a great part of the wall. Did she not also excel painter Protogenes in his art? who having finished the picture of a dog quite tired and out of breath. when fortune guiding the sponge to hit just upon the mouth of the dog. Constantine.

few men would value them. cobblers. being proscribed by the triumvirs of Rome. by designing to revenge the death of his father. with so close and hearty an embrace. finemque tenere. to fall by the hands of one another. Fortune. "Servare modu. such as glide on in their own purity and simplicity easily escape so gross a sight as ours. his design was to furnish us with precepts and things that more really and fitly serve the use of life. men are only puffed up with wind. we. toward Timoleon. bounty. {BK2_3 ^paragraph 5} Naturamque sequi. But to conclude: is there not a direct application of her favor. and who discern no riches but in pomp and show. also. he cries out for pardon. and a quality of reproach? Socrates ma es his soul move a natural and common motion. to preserve the life of the common father of Sicily. that they might have liberty to embrace one another in this dying condition. affording withal so much honor to so brave a friendship. that they made two equally mortal wounds. pleading that he had justly slain his father's murderer. a woman said that. and are bandied to and fro li e tennis-balls. affectionately suc ing in the last blood and remainder of the lives of each other. before whom being brought. that his father was really illed in the city of the Leontines. which his friends have transmitted to us. and by that means to frustrate and defeat the cruelty of the tyrants. as to leave them just strength enough to draw out their bloody swords. which he. and their wounds joined mouth to mouth. joiners. He proposed to himself no vain and idle fancies. they are not after our way.thrust and hauled by the people through the press. 'tis not according to our own nowledge. and piety manifestly discovered in this action? Ignatius the father and Ignatius the son. by that very man on whom he had ta en his revenge. he has never anybody in his mouth but carters. that are not elevated by learned doctrine. with their swords drawn. for having had the good fortune. where fortune so guided the points. This world of ours is only formed for ostentation. his are inductions and similitudes drawn from the most common and nown actions of men. a peasant said this. in so wea an age. every one understands him. if anything of the ind should spring up now. We discern no graces that are not pointed and puffed out and inflated by art. who thin all things low and flat. we approve upon no other account than a reverence to public sanction. such as requires a clear and purified sight to discover its secret light. That image of Socrates' discourses. ran full drive upon one another. {BK2_3 III. leaving the bodies still fast lin ed together in this noble bond. truly. and masons. by sufficient witnesses. cousin-german to folly. OF PHYSIOGNOMY Almost all the opinions we have are ta en on authority and trust and 'tis not amiss. proving upon the spot. and the other most eminent persons of the assembly. that the executioners cut off both their heads at once. resolved upon this generous act of mutual indness. whom his good fortune very opportunely supplied him withal. he was presently awarded ten Attic minae." -                             . We should never have recognized the nobility and splendor of his admirable conceptions under so mean a form. and accordingly. as we ta e it. in her conduct surpasses all the rules of human prudence. Is not simplicity. they have a delicate and concealed beauty. we could not choose worse than by ourselves.

and more than he needs to do: extending the utility of nowledge. he only represents it sound. and penitence: 'tis also a gelding of our unruly appetites. how much we shall eat or drin of it. and with a gentle and ordinary pace. which has in it. but the most high and vigorous beliefs. and manners that ever were. Its acquisition is far more hazardous than that of all other meat or drin . should be he of whom we have the most certain nowledge. and in his death. to see men in devotion vow ignorance as well as chastity. actions. by these ordinary and popular fancies. but we are taught to borrow and to beg. either already infected or amended: there are some that only burden and overcharge the stomach. in Cato 'tis most manifest. and brought up more to ma e use of what is another's than of our own. or. 'Tis a great thing that he was able so to order the pure imaginations of a child. you will find nothing in all this borrowed from arts and sciences: the simplest may there discover their own means and strength. And I find that in curiosity of nowing he is the same. with what arguments he fortifies his patience against calumny. without altering or wresting them. sic litterarum quoque. stow into no other vessel than the soul. the testimonies we have of him are admirable both in fidelity and fullness. where she lost her time. he thereby produced the most beautiful effects of our soul: he presents it neither elevated nor rich. that under color of curing. and to deprive the soul of this voluptuous complacency that tic les us with the opinion of                               . in the ordinary way of human life. as to other things. See him plead before his judges. and when: but sciences we can. but assuredly with a bris and full health. Man can in nothing fix himself to his actual necessity: of pleasure.He was also always one and the same. I have been pleased. for having restrained her son in his too violent appetite of learning. 'tis not possible more to retire or to creep more low. intemperantia laboramus. he cuts himself out more wor than he can do. without being moved or put out. some. observe by what reasons he rouses his courage to the hazards of war. and return from the mar et. if duly considered. death. at the very first. human wisdom. mounted not at all. that the man most worthy to be nown and to be presented to the world for example. and power. his greediness is incapable of moderation. and the perverseness of his wife. tyranny. and. instead of nourishing. he set up not only the most regular. proper and natural to itself. and there have full leisure to examine our purchase. he grasps at more than he can hold. to restore her to man. he has been pried into by the most clear-sighted men that ever were. moreover. not by starts but by complexion. we swallow them in buying. whereas the other ever creeps upon the ground. and that costs very dear. to the highest pitch of vigor. reduced and subjected all asperities and difficulties to his original and natural condition. By these common and natural springs. 'Tis he who brought again from heaven. to the full of its matter: "Ut omnium rerum. that. with whom her most just and greatest business lies. we find him always mounted upon the great horse. that 'tis a procedure extended far beyond the common ways of men: in the brave exploits of his life. in showing it how much it can do of itself. but rather brought down. poison us. 'Tis a good. for. treats of the most useful matters. poverty. for. to blunt this cupidity that spurs us on to the study of boo s. We are all of us richer than we thin we are. what we have bought we carry home in some vessel. a great deal of vanity and wea ness. both at his death and in the rudest difficulties that could present themselves. in places where I have been. wealth. as the other goods of men have. to say better. and raised himself. He has done human nature a great indness. and bears himself. It has fallen out well." And Tacitus had reason to commend the mother of Agricola.

that is just as nature framed it at first. yet more reverenced than these. die with as much firmness as a philosopher. trying to arm us with new defenses against natural inconveniences. has more imprinted in our fancies their weight and greatness. and supports us. Therefore one ought to ta e a little heed not to call that force which is only a pretty nac of writing. as at the resisting it. pric s and ma es us start. more pure and manly than those we so inquisitively study in the schools. a tempestuous and unquiet instrument. quam potata delectant:" everything that pleases. in my opinion. The one more sharp." {BK2_3 ^paragraph 10} To see the trouble that Seneca gives himself to fortify himself against death. incorporeal arguments.nowledge: and 'tis plenarily to accomplish the vow of poverty. forms. Should I have died less cheerfully before I had read Cicero's Tusculans? I believe not. so much more manly and persuasive. by how much it is more disdainful and farther stretched. and the fittest to serve you in time of necessity. with which she often alarms us to little purpose. how                               . the closest and wisest authors scatter about one good one: they are but verbal quir s and fallacies to amuse and gull us: but forasmuch as it may be with some profit. paint them so sharp. this wins it. he must be convinced at his own expense. example nor precept. and I am apt to believe that his soul had more assured and more regular motions. are as much to wonder at the strangeness and un nown force of their temptation. the other more constantly solid.. and you will find in yourself natural arguments against death. indeed. I have li ewise seen other writings. and whole nations. Plutarch's way. many of that sort are here and there dispersed up and down this boo . Do but observe. What if nowledge. and when I find myself at the best. but my courage little or nothing elevated by them. and defends itself against the conflict. establishes. prone and intent upon their business. Boo s have not so much served me for instruction as exercise. and. sed animi negotium agitur. I will sift them no further. All our sufficiency which exceeds the natural is well-nigh superfluous and vain: 'tis much if it does not rather burden and cumber us than do us good: "Paucis opus est literis ad mentem bonam:" 'tis a feverish excess of the mind. to see him so sweat and pant to harden and encourage himself. had he not very bravely held himself at the last. We need little doctrine to live at our ease. or that good which is only fine: "Quae magis gustata. and the way how to find it. alius animo color"). and more touches the soul. from these nature every day extracts effects of constancy and patience. how many slight and frivolous. non est alius ingenio. and bustle so long upon this perch. His so ardent and frequent agitations discover that he was in himself impetuous and passionate ("Magnus animus remissius loquitur. that neither now Aristotle nor Cato. that in the representation of the conflict they maintain against the temptations of the flesh. than her reasons and subtleties to secure us from them? They are subtleties. to add unto it that of the mind. who are of the common herd. does not nourish: "Ubi non ingenii. and he in some sort discovers that he was hard pressed by his enemy. and the manner how to use it. so powerful and invincible. would have lessened his reputation with me. and Socrates teaches us. That ravishes the judgment. is. only after a natural and ordinary way. true. either borrowed or by imitation. I perceive that my tongue is enriched indeed. 'tis they that ma e a peasant. and more touches the understanding. if nearly examined. Do but recollect yourself.. et securius. that we ourselves. To what end do we so arm ourselves with this harness of science? Let us loo down upon the poor people that we see scattered upon the face of the earth. that this is in us. and that solid which is only sharp.

he it is who has to follow. that it ruins itself with the rest: and with its own rage mangles and tears itself to pieces. as ours have done. destroying itself with its own poison. would chastise disobedience. "Non armis. dysentery but a looseness. sweeten and mollify the sharpness of them. malo permista furore." I was writing this about a time when a great load of our intestine troubles for several months lay with all its weight upon me. so they patiently endure them." {BK2_3 ^paragraph 25} In the beginning of these popular maladies. they never eep their beds but to die. We had           . and itself is the example. It is of so malignant and ruinous a nature. for there is no air that men so greedily draw in. to give way to them. but every one at his own. It pleases me to observe how much pusillanimity and cowardice there is in ambition. than through scarcity of any necessary thing. on the other. The very names by which they call diseases. than he has without. sed vitiis. Justificam nobis mentem avertere deorum. What a shame it is! there is no longer any discipline but what we see in the borrowed soldiers. that diffuses itself so soon and that penetrates so deep." and underwent all sorts of military injuries at once: "Hostis adest dextra laevaque a parte timendus. when they hinder their ordinary labor. and that not of the chief. "Simplex illa et aperta virtus in obscuram et solertem scientiam versa est. and the free-booters. this against itself. I had the enemy at my door on one side. how many who desire to die. employed for the defense of the laws. and is itself full of it. All discipline evades it: it comes to compose sedition. The general has a harder game to play within. the pleurisy but a stitch. worse enemies than they." "Omnia fanda. the whole body is then infected from head to foot. {BK2_3 ^paragraph 15} Vicinoque malo terret utrumque latus. but it displeases me to see good and generous natures. by how abject and servile ways it must arrive at its end. Our armies only subsist and are ept together by the cement of foreigners." A monstrous war! Other wars are bent against strangers. the phthisic is with them no more than a cough. and. as they gently name them. What a condition are we in! Our physic ma es us sic ! "Nostre mal s' empoisonne Du secours qu'on luy donne" {BK2_3 ^paragraph 20} "Exuperat magis.many do I ordinarily see who slight poverty. to court the soldiers. one may distinguish the sound from the sic : but when they come to continue. he alone has to obey: all the rest is dissolution and free license. as that of license. rebels against its own. no part is free from corruption. nefanda. consent and imitation. Long toleration begets habit. We more often see it dissolve of itself. As to ourselves. every day corrupted in the management and command of this confusion. certatur. has this morning buried his father or his son. for of Frenchmen there is now no constant and regular army to be made. and. aegrescitque medendo. they are very great and grievous indeed. our conduct is at discretion. habit. and that are capable of justice. or who die without alarm or regret? He who is now digging in my garden. or by force of the enemy.

and that is to be purchased at the price of the citizen's blood and ruin. theirs more temperate and circumspect. whether among so many men as meddle in such affairs. to see that when he subdued Egypt. filling fraternal hearts with parricidal hatreds. will not consent that a man should violate the peace of his country in order to cure it. so that if we hold on. and the other half in observing the discipline of the Tur ish armies. through the universal dar ness wherein the world was involved in his time). for an egg ta en by a Tur ish soldier without paying for it. instead of the time they spend in less fruitful travels. though ripe and delicious.ill-formed souls enough. determining it to be the duty of a good patriot in such a case to let it alone. which are only punished with a cudgel in peace. I often doubt. not an apple. not necessary to nourishment. and in a conquered land. in case fortune chance to restore it: "Hunc saltem everso juvenem succurrere seclo. are capital in war. that an orchard being enclosed within the precincts of a camp of the Roman army. that it is worth while to physic with such a mortal drug? No. of what sort or how trivial soever. Plato. that by overthrowing government. they are presently impaled or beheaded without mercy. and his army encamped upon the very place. and less honorable employments would bestow one half of that time in being an eyewitness of naval exploits. in whose protection God has placed him. and the laws. said Favonius. one of these is. and giving her limbs to be mangled by her old enemies. before I new there had ever been such a man as Plato in the world. for the thefts and insolencies committed upon the common people." {BK2_3 ^paragraph 30} What is become of the old precept. should be left untouched by the hands of the soldiers. "That soldiers ought more to fear their chief than the enemy?" and of that wonderful example. without spoiling those that were generous and good. for anything else. fifty blows with a stic is the fixed rate. But is there any disease in a government. being pulled off. the beautiful gardens about Damascus being all open. the magistracy. by dismembering his good mother. li ewise. under some good captain of Rhodes. and advanced toward salvation by the most express causes that we have of most assured damnation. was seen at their dislodgment the next day in the same condition. for having proceeded somewhat after another manner. the most cruel conqueror that ever was. there will scarcely remain any with whom to intrust the health of this state of ours. not even the tyrannical usurpation of a commonwealth. I do not thin it becomes us to suffer ourselves to be instructed by a heathen how great an impiety it is not to expect from God any relief simply his own and without our co-operation. calling devils and furies to                   . I was a Platonist in this point. and only to pray to God for his extraordinary assistance: and he seems to be angry with his great friend Dion. that our soldiers become more licentious in expeditions. by reason they had not received the signal of pillage. there is not to be found some one of so wea understanding as to have been really persuaded that he went toward reformation by the worst of deformations. I am astonished in the history of Selim. merited from the divine favor to penetrate so far into the Christian light. Ne prohibete. And if this person ought absolutely to be rejected from our society (he who by the sincerity of his conscience. and by no means approves of a reformation that disturbs and hazards all. but all left to the possessor? I could wish that our youth. for they have many differences and advantages over ours.

and whoever would have questioned me. There cannot a worse state of things be imagined." but future too. si quid superesse volent dii: {BK2_3 ^paragraph 45} -                             . The situation of my house. is where that which is unjust." and. to the Ghibelin I was a Guelph. I have no manner of care of getting: "Si mihi. et mihi vivam Quod superest aevi. would have done himself a greater prejudice than me. and so were they who were yet unborn. quod nunc est. They did not lay formal accusations to my charge. if I do not sit totally mute. I step up to meet it. etiam minus." {BK2_3 ^paragraph 40} Besides this shoc . quam prava religio. my life and my actions with another. ubi deorum numen praetenditur sceleribus. cruelty. and not present damage only. have as little indness for me as they who interpret it the wea ness of an indefensible cause. than where wic edness comes to be legitimate. and consequently myself. Ambition. which never want appearance in so confused a mixture. instead of retiring from an accusation. toward whom want of submission is the great fault. presented me with one face. an ambitious man would have hanged himself. and to the Guelph a Ghibelin: one of my poets expresses this very well. and rather give it some ind of color by an ironical and scoffing confession. ta ing from them all they had laid up in store to live on for many years: "Quae nequeunt secum ferre aut abducere. I commonly myself lend a hand to injurious presumptions that fortune scatters abroad against me. let us bait them with the glorious titles of justice and devotion. that it were to compromise my conscience to plead in its behalf. Et cremat insontes turba scelesta casas . even of hope. that at what then befell me. and suppliant. Muris nulla fides. squalent populatibus agri. the cloa of virtue: "Nihil in speciem fallacius. no more than envious or idle heads." The extremest sort of injustice. or explain myself. and my friendliness with my neighbors. excuse. as if every one saw as clearly into me as I do myself. but I now not where it is. I have often noc ed my head against this pillar. humble. by a way I have ever had of evading to justify. I suffered others: I underwent the inconveniences that moderation brings along with it in such a disease: I was robbed on all hands. he can assist the most holy sweetness and justice of the divine law. and assumes with the magistrates' permission. and revenge.his aid. and a covetous man would have done the same. and is not submissive... the great fol s. "Perspicuitas enim argumentatione elevatur. But such as loo upon this ind of behavior of mine as too haughty a confidence. "Undique totis {BK2_3 ^paragraph 35} Usque adeo turbatur agris. perdunt. namely. The common people then suffered very much. according to Plato. I never hide my head from the laws. So it is. as of a thing not worth my answer. conceiving. the living were to suffer. they stripped them. harsh toward all justice that nows and feels itself. avarice. should be reputed for just. for they had no foundation for so doing. have not sufficient natural impetuosity of their own. they were only mute suspicions that were whispered about.

" In an ordinary and quiet time. that I should be but upon cold terms in fortune's favor. idle. that this accident served me for exercise to prepare me for worse. without wrin ling my forehead. whether in particular or in general. and attach myself and loo to myself all the more closely. the better to consider them. by the rarity of these pitiable events. qui se habet in potestate. I should so much the more pressingly recommend me to my own. as if I were half willing to be overcome. ill scholars are to be admonished with the rod. I found myself bare. among my friends. and so gently refuse.but the losses that befall me by the injury of others. and fortunate friendship: these are very rare. and languishing age. I might commit a helpless and decrepit age. but we please ourselves in rousing our displeasure. I saw that it was safest for me to trust to myself in my necessity: and if it should so fall out. when reason will not do. if I. though but in shadow and the fables of theaters. I was already considering to whom. instructing myself betimes to constrain my life. And I was satisfied that they were profitable inconveniences. A thousand several sorts of mischiefs fell upon me in the nec of one another. first. go almost as near my heart. And good historians s ip over. whether by theft or violence. I have a great while preached to myself to stic close to my own concerns. who both by the benefit of fortune. hoped to be among the last. and fit it for a new state. to draw me into the open mar et place. and having turned my eyes quite round. moreover. and is ready to fall one piece from another. so does my curiosity ma e me in some sort please myself in seeing with my own eyes this notable spectacle of our public death. So do we eagerly covet to see. The offense troubles me. calm narrations. will be made famous by their misfortunes. and separate myself from the affairs of others: yet I am still turning my eyes aside. and by the condition of my manners. as a croo ed piece of wood is by fire and straining reduced to straightness. 'tis not without compassion at what we hear. its form and symptoms. without comparison.                                 . which is alone certain and sufficient to him who nows how therewith to arm himself. some who could never have been so by other means. and to the future. forasmuch as no one is arrived at himself. hear en to the persuasions offered me. As I seldom read in histories the confusions of other states without regret that I was not present. Let us than fortune. sees himself every hour upon the point of the total ruin and overthrow of his fortune: by so much the more ought he to have his courage supplied with the strongest and most vigorous provisions. Now for so indocile a spirit blows are required. To let one's self fall plumb down. more than the loss. must have the hoops forced down with good sound stro es of a mallet. as stagnant water and dead sea. and how little they signify. should happen to be one of the first assailed by this storm. this vessel which thus chops and cleaves. At last. if there be any. Secondly. A bow. Every one runs elsewhere. but in the confusion wherein we have been for these thirty years. Men on all occasions throw themselves upon foreign assistance to spare their own. I could more cheerfully have borne them all at once. and thereby to instruct myself. that has not made us live in an effeminate. I am content to have been destined to be present therein. forasmuch as. and since I cannot hinder it. I. it ought to be in the arms of a solid. of which God nows how little scarcity there is in these days. and from so great a height. a man prepares himself for moderate and common accidents. Nothing tic les that does not pinch. the pomp of tragic representations of human fortune. The true liberty is to be able to do what a man will with himself: "Potentissimus est. a ind word or loo from a great person tempts me. vigorous. as they would do that of the most avaricious man. every Frenchman.

It was an universal juncture of particular members. any more than goods. as what remains safe. I myself. or at least to wrestle with them. and left to the mercy of any one who wished to ta e it. another while that. there are few things that I cannot do with it. the corruption and brigandage which are in dignity and office. but only in comparison with the sic ness that has succeeded it: we are not fallen from any great height. but elevated. and submit to her pleasure." I had to suffer this pleasant condition. I have passed over above the one-half of my life amid the ruin of my country. while I am arming myself to drive them away. sometimes suffer themselves. at last. It was health. whatever I had there was without guard. I question whether I can decently confess with how small a sacrifice of its repose and tranquillity. where no contagion. violent in comparison of all others.to occupy themselves with wars and seditions. certainly. really more animated than pressed me. by fits to be surprised with the stings of those unpleasing imaginations that assault me. that the sight of my house was frightful to me. as I can do nothing without it. my health continued at that time more than usually good. But. that itself relieves the regret we should have for it. and I did not find any reason to complain of myself. But behold another aggravation of the evil which befell me in the tail of the rest! both without doors and within I was assailed with a most violent plague. one while this. It afforded me means to rouse up all my faculties. in accidents that do not absolutely assail myself. however near. and I experienced. Also. as those who are possessed and oppressed with sorrow. yet I suffer myself. that it is half true: "Tantum ex publicis malis sentimus. I ma e my patience somewhat too cheap. who am so hospitable. absolutely pure to men. therefore. that I had some stand against fortune. as also. so have I so much power over myself. as God never sends evils. and are sometimes surprised with a smile. let her be content in God's name. seem to me the most insupportable: we are less injuriously rifled in a wood. I do not say this to provo e her to give me a more vigorous charge: I am her humble servant. nullum Saeva caput Proserpina fugit. by intervals to taste a little pleasure. nevertheless. by the assistance of my conscience. which they now are most acceptable to the readers. Do you as if I am sensible of her assaults? Yes. than in a place of security. peradventure. both within and without. forasmuch as they are not to be forced but by such. coming to be corrupted. so my very healthful air.                       . in my patience. was in very great distress for a retreat for my family. in the memory of man. ever too footing. of the evils that are leveled. and that it must be a great shoc could throw me out of the saddle. and. produced most strange effects: {BK2_3 ^paragraph 50} "Mista senum et juvenum densantur funera. and do not so much regard what they ta e from me. and to lay my hand before the wound that would else. quantum ad privatas res pertinet. each rotten in emulation of the others: and most of them with inveterate ulcers. that in matters of public interest. This convulsion. for as sound bodies are subject to more grievous maladies." and that the health from which we fell was so ill. as to ma e my ordinary condition quiet and free from disturbing thoughts. have gone farther. at ourselves too. but at present hurt-others only about us. the wea er it is: to which may be added. the more universally my affection is dispersed. which was not only at peace within itself. There is comfort in evading. that neither admitted nor required any cure. withal.

who. Apprehension. that. he must undergo a quarantine. by reason that they die in the same month. and filling every place with horror where it attempted to settle. threw the bodies of their dead into the deepest and less frequented part of their woods. the grapes. dug their own graves. But as to the people about us. a nation subjected by Alexander. and a laborer of mine. that presently floc ed thither. and miserably to serve six months together for a guide to this caravan. in every danger that a man comes near. with a countenance and voice so far from fear. all diseases are then concluded to be the plague. in fear of the evil. and people do not stay to examine whether they are so or no. either to-night or to-morrow. the principal wealth of the country. at the mercy of the wild beasts. they were troubled to see the dead bodies scattered about the fields. as if they had come to terms with this necessity. and. And the mischief on't is. your imagination all the while tormenting you at pleasure. who were yet in health. Yet all this would have much less affected me. were found with their heads thrust into holes in the earth. which is particularly feared in this disease. But then. lay a long time fallow. what an hundred man plowed for me. the sole consideration of company. 'Tis always such. and old. had I not withal been compelled to be sensible of the sufferings of others. Observe these people. without pain. children. according to the rules of art. young people. on purpose to have them there eaten. 'tis commonly short. without ceremony. than that of sepulture. and consoled by the public condition. Was not this to nestle and settle himself to sleep at greater ease? A bravery in some sort li e that of the Roman soldiers. for I carry my own antidotes within myself. In short. renders its apprehension various to us. others laid themselves down in them while alive. without mourning. having to shift its abode so soon as any one's finger began but to ache. if being alone." {BK2_3 ^paragraph 55} In this place my largest revenue is pure manual labor. Most of the instructions of science to encourage us herein have in them more of show than of force. with his hands and feet pulled the earth upon him. which they had made. they are no longer astonished at it: they no longer lament. it had been a less cheerless and more remote departure.a distracted family. and that it was an universal and inevitable sentence. the hundredth part of them could not be saved: "Videas desertaque regna Pastorum. does not much trouble me. stupid. and more of ornament than of           . nothing inferior in undauntedness to the most studied and premeditated resolution. 'tis a ind of death that I do not thin of the worst sort. I saw some who were afraid of staying behind. remained untouched upon the vines. every man indifferently prepared for and expected death. as in a dreadful solitude: and I did not commonly observe any other solicitude among them. et longe saltus lateque vacantes. I should have been ta en. and turning even your health itself into a fever. every one renounced all care of life. a whole province was. the only sepulture reputed happy among them. without a crowd. in dying. but how slender hold has the resolution of dying? The distance and difference of a few hours. frightful both to its friends and itself. after the battle of Cannae. Some. with their own hands pulled the earth about their ears. what example of resolution did we not see in the simplicity of all this people? Generally. at once brought to a course. which are resolution and patience. by the common usage. How differing are the fancies of men! the Neorites. and in suffocating themselves.

It was of old truly said. believe what pleases thee best: what good will it do thee to anticipate thy ill fortune. as horses that are led. "in the meantime. On the contrary. tranquillity and innocence. and will teach her what to do. or diversity of opinions. corruption. say they.for certainly it is a frenzy. so that we must see testimony from beasts." What good will this curiosity do us. but still under the restraint of its tether. because thou art to be so in time?" These are his words. and in the meantime. teach her who so happily and so securely conducted us. the preparation for death has administered more torment than the thing itself. remains of her image imprinted in the life of this rustic rout of unpolished men. the most easy and most natural way. because you will stand in need of it at Christmas! Throw yourselves. they will not come soon enough. indeed. by the benefit of ignorance." not only the blow. would be to banish even the thoughts of them. favor thyself. Men have done with nature as perfumers with oils: they have sophisticated her with so many argumentations and farfetched discourses.effect. and to ma e thyself miserable now. in instructing us exactly as to the dimensions of evils. and that this reason we so handle at our pleasure. and to put on your furred gown at mid-summer. finding evermore some diversity and novelty. love and bring up our children. and that little which. 'Tis certain that. "Curis acuens mortalia corda!" {BK2_3 ^paragraph 60} 'Twere pity that any part of their greatness should escape our sense and nowledge. but the wind of the blow stri es us. leaves in us no apparent trace of nature. that she is become variable and particular to each." says one of our masters. or. morbos. and so be assured of them. true that even these themselves do not always go exactly in the path of nature.. from the footsteps of her instruction.. it is so little that you may always see the trac . constant. tormenta. and they still follow him that leads them. "Exsilia. and to prepare ourselves with so much trouble against things which. into the experience of all the evils. does us one good office. bella. to lose the present for fear of the future. we must incorporate them in us beforehand. science is constrained every day to borrow patterns for her disciples of constancy. have to imitate this foolish simplicity. and there entertain them. because it may so fall out that Fortune may one day ma e you undergo it. as if they would not otherwise sufficiently press upon our senses. but 'tis always at the length of the halter. pati posse. as. but of the most severe. how we are to live and die. but wherein they swerve. and by a very judicious author. of none of the tender sects. maintain justice: a singular testimony of human infirmity. It is pretty to see that these persons full of so much fine nowledge. and universal face. for the most part. the most profitable instructions in the greatest and most necessary concerns of our life. indeed.to go immediately and whip yourself. to anticipate all the inconveniences of human nature. naufragia meditare. li e phrenetic people. manage our property. peradventure.. ma e many bounds and curvets. and as a young haw ta es its flight. We have abandoned Nature. Science. It is. ut nullo sis malo tiro. their true being will not continue with us long enough: our mind must lengthen and extend them. and has lost her proper. and that our wisdom must learn even from beasts. not subject to favor. will never befall us? "Parem passis tristitiam facit. "Minus afficit sensus                       . and this in the primary actions of virtue. "We shall find them heavy enough when they come. the most extreme evils that can possibly befall you.

" I never saw any peasant among my neighbors cogitate with what countenance and assurance he should pass over his last hour. it was the opinion of Caesar. to the end they may have whereon to employ their drugs and their art. ta e you no care"Incertam frustra. Men differ in sentiment and force. its extremity. after having fought timorously and ill.. desiring to anticipate and regulate natural prescripts. is this article of Knowing how to die. "Plus dolet quam necesse est. though it be the end. certam subito perferre ruinam.". quite the contrary. quam cogitatio. it is not the aim of life." We trouble life by the care of death. and then gives us rules and precautions to provide that this foresight and thought do us no harm: just so do physicians. The sight of future death requires a courage that is slow. that is too momentary a thing. funeris horam Quaeritis.. at the time. If we have not nown how to live. the common sort stand in                 . does not deserve especial precepts: to say the truth. and suffer itself. nature teaches him not to thin of death till he is dying. who. and then he does it with a better grace than Aristotle. deferor hospes. et qua sit mors aditura via. its true study is to order. the other frights us. to see and consider it before the time. we shall now how to die so too. nature will. it ought itself to be its own aim and design. we prepare ourselves against the preparations of death. qui anti dolet. It is only for the doctors to dine worse for it. and to frown at the image of death. Quod timeas. who throw us into diseases. and. quam necesse est. gravius sustinuisse diu. and death by the care of life: the one torments.fatigatio. did not our fears give it weight. govern. both of itself and of so long a premeditation. mortales. To judge of them by utility and by the na ed truth. a quarter of an hour's suffering. animates us with a prompt resolution not to avoid a thing that is utterly inevitable: many gladiators have been seen in the olden time. we must lead them to their own good according to their capacities and by various ways: {BK2_3 ^paragraph 70} "Quo me cumque rapit tempestas. that the general and principal chapter of Knowing how to live comprehends. If you now not how to die. It is not against death that we prepare. They may boast as much as they please. Philosophy ordains that we should always have death before our eyes. when in the best health. that the least premeditated death was the easiest and the most happy. and consequently hard to be got. offering their throats to the enemies' sword and bidding them despatch." but I fancy that. 'tis injustice to teach us how to die. have courageously entertained death. In the number of several other offices." The sentiment of present death sometimes. and. therefore. commentatio mortis est. "Tota philosophorum vita. 'tis its end. the lessons of simplicity are not much inferior to those which learning teaches us: nay. of itself. never trouble yourself. fully and sufficiently instruct you: she will exactly do that business for you. without consequence. but not nevertheless its object. {BK2_3 ^paragraph 65} "Poena minor. and ma e the end difform from all the rest: if we have nown how to live firmly and quietly. upon whom death presses with a double weight. and without damage." The sharpness of this imagination springs from our curiosity: 'tis thus we ever impede ourselves. one of the lightest too.

as Homer says. If I am to die and leave you alive. that the stolidity and want of apprehension in the vulgar give them that patience in present evils. daily extract from my conversation. Socrates shall be one. for. and to be exempt from having any more to do with unjust and corrupt judges. not being. moreover. are less penetrable and not so easily moved? If it be so. teach nothing but ignorance: 'tis the utmost fruit the sciences promise us. whether it be God or man. but I should do a shame to our city at the age I am. such as I do not now whether they be good or evil. begotten of wood or of a stone. and consider on't no more than just what they endure. What would men say of the other Athenians? I have always admonished those who have frequented my lectures. grant to others. that if I entreat you not to put me to death. not to redeem their lives by an unbecoming action. with less reason. at Amphipolis. We have no want of good masters. to set me at liberty. You have sworn to the                         . from whom to inform myself. according to the custom. both public and private. a thing to be desired. Such as fear it. than in ordering that. Delia. and that profound carelessness of future sinister accidents? That their souls. peradventure. in God's name. if it be an annihilation of our being. and. you cannot more duly acquit yourself toward my merit. I should. and other expeditions where I have been. But according to my method of advising just and profitable things. we find nothing more sweet in life than quiet repose and a profound sleep. 'tis yet a bettering of one's condition to enter into a long and peaceable night. I cannot fear them. who might well present themselves before you with tears and mourning. an indifferent thing. without dreams. if it be a transmigration from one place to another. and the fruit that you all reap from me. and when the blow comes. that I do not. nor what they do in the other world.need of no remedy or consolation. a thing that I have often nown you. nor have ever seen any person that has tried its qualities. to appear in such an abject form. as to injure's one's neighbor. Wherefore. Do not impute it to obstinacy or disdain. I say that you will do your consciences more right. peradventure. which is. you may do as you shall thin fit. my poverty considered. unless you see further into my cause than I do. no more than others. and in the wars of my country. Death is. and according to the profit that so many of our citizens. supplicate and go about to move you to commiseration. I shall confirm the charge of my accusers. to which this stolidity so gently leads its disciples. the gods alone only now whether it will go better with you or with me. I have both friends and indred. and should invite you to unbecoming things. I carefully avoid. The things that I now to be evil. and in the reputation of wisdom which is now charged against me. Potidea. as to what concerns me. he spea s something to this purpose to the judges who sat upon his life and death. that it is a bettering of one's condition to go and live with so many great persons deceased. but just in the shoc . and I have three desolate children with whom to move you to compassion. my masters. in being more gross and dull. I have neither frequented nor nown death. let us henceforth. but for the pure and solid reasons of justice. 'Tis nevertheless to be believed. for 'tis not for my prayers to persuade you. I have effectually manifested how far I was from securing my safety by my shame. Is it not. I should be maintained at the Prytaneum. presuppose they now it. at the public expense. then. judging according to my past actions. and to disobey one's superior. "I am afraid. I neither now what it is. as having some more secret nowledge of things that are above and below us. both young and old. as for my part. that I pretend to be wiser than others. compromise your duty. as we say. according to my intentions. as I remember. interpreters of natural simplicity.

not to believe them as I ought. and ought his rich and powerful nature to have committed her defense to art. and I should testify against myself. and the flourishes of a premeditated speech? He did very wisely. it conduces more to birth and augmentation. by reason of itself. to adorn and dec herself with the embellishments of figures. and. and so sacred an image of the human form." Is not this an innocent child's pleading of an unimaginable loftiness. in her highest proof. than to loss or ruin? "Sic rerum summa novatur. but unworthy of so noble a criminal. and not purely committing my affair into their hands." "Mille animas una necata dedit. and no less essential than living. the pure and first impression and ignorance of nature. in the judiciary style. true. To what end should nature have begotten in us a hatred to it and a horror of it. that lofty virtue had struc sail in the height of its glory. among so many other examples that I had to choose out of in the sayings of Socrates for my present purpose. not to corrupt the tenor of an incorrupt life. have renounced truth and simplicity. I must tell them that I have purposely selected it. whether living or dead. that they avoided them as excommunicated persons. and shall judge this discourse of his elevated above common conceptions. and to betray the immortal memory of that glorious end. had it not been a public damage. but not of death. I have made an ill choice of this. and hold myself assured they will do in this what shall be most fit both for you and for me. they hanged themselves. for I am of another opinion. that he should have concluded it after a lazy and obscure manner? Assuredly. 'tis a part of our being. as indeed they did. no one would wash with them in the public baths. Had a suppliant voice been heard out of the mouth of Socrates. and li e himself. that careless and indifferent consideration of his death deserved that posterity should consider it so much the more. and loo ed upon everything as polluted that had been touched by them. the ornaments of his spea ing. none would salute or own acquaintance with them: so that. for it is to be believed that we have naturally a fear of pain. in ran and simplicity. He represents. have no reason to fear the gods. and it would seem as if I suspected you. fran . or would recriminate upon you that I do not believe that you are so. in an inartificial boldness and infantine security. {BK2_3 ^paragraph 75} If any one shall thin that.gods to eep yourselves upright. mistrusting their conduct. I wholly rely upon them. for the Athenians abominated all those who had been causers of his death to such a degree. to spin out his decrepitude another year. much below and behind common conceptions." Nature has imprinted in beasts the care of themselves and of their                     . unexampled? and in what a necessity employed! Truly. he had very good reason to prefer it before that which the great orator Lysias had penned for him: admirably couched. considering that it is of so great utility to her in maintaining the succession and vicissitude of her wor s? and that in this universal republic. and just. indeed. He owed his life not to himself. unable longer to support this public hatred. good men. and there is nothing so just in justice than that which fortune ordained for his recommendation." {BK2_3 ^paragraph 80} "The failing of one life is the passage to a thousand other lives. and hold it to be a discourse. but to the example of the world. at last.

but that. In earnest. that is quite contrary to my design. I have so far yielded to the public opinion. whereof they may be in doubt. disguising and altering it for some new service. of our haltering and beating them. I had at all hazards spo en purely alone. it may be of use to some others. but. This is to buy or borrow a boo . they proceed so far as to be timorous of being worse. If it misbecome me. a pusillanimous and absurd vanity for such a subject and such a person. for his share. the in and paper. as I believe it does. and what is my own by nature. we invest ourselves with those of others. who desire to ma e a show of nothing but what is my own. but that we should ill them. that we see them not only cheerfully undergo it. 'tis no matter. and among so many borrowed things. that I have here only made a nosegay of culled flowers. it is said. and so have more credit with the laws than I. there needs no more but a preliminary epistle of the German cut to stuff me with illustrations. I more and more load myself every day. our faculties are not so trained up: we do not try. These lumber pies of commonplaces. and have brought nothing of my own but the thread that ties them. to the end it may not be so absolutely foreign. I have seen boo s made of things that were never either studied or understood. at least. and value themselves upon them. he deprived himself of the glory he had got by it: in my opinion. are his. I do quite contrary. we do not now them. having a thousand volumes about me in the place where I write. if I please. cheating the sottish world. and as I also have ta en things out of places far enough distant from their source. in telling which. wherewith so many furnish their studies. in my hearing. of hitting or hurting themselves. and not to direct us: a ridiculous fruit of learning that Socrates so pleasantly discusses against Euthydemus. there lies the extreme degree of perfection and difficulty. and not to ma e one. at the hazard of having it said that 'tis for want of understanding its natural use. boasted that he had cluttered together two hundred and odd commonplaces in one of his judgements. the author committing to several of his learned friends the examination of this and t'other matter to compile it. am glad if I can steal one. And so 'tis we go a begging for a tic lish glory. indeed. we naturalists thin that there is a great and incomparable preference in the honor of invention over                                               . and serve but to show us. with having projected the design. is not the way of arguing which Socrates here ma es use of. A president. Such there are who quote Plato and Homer. that those borrowed ornaments accompany me. he cannot ma e one. are of little use but to common subjects. from a dozen such scrap-gatherers. moreover. nor have they the faculty to imagine and conclude such a thing as death. but I would not have them totally cover and hide me. These set their thefts in show. and to live li e Caesar. art cannot reach it. contenting himself.conservation. it is much more easy to spea li e Aristotle. see it at need. and by his industry to have tied together this faggot of un nown provisions. accidents subject to their sense and experience. people about whom I do not much trouble myself. and let our own lie idle. than to spea and live as Socrates did. Now. beyond my purpose and first method. I can presently borrow. But besides. they cannot fear. Without pains and without learning. I give it some particular address of my own hand. as some one may say of me. equally admirable both in simplicity and vehemence? Truly. wherewith to tric up this treatise of Physiognomy. 'tis to show men not that he can ma e a boo . and had I ta en my own advice. who never saw either of them. upon the account of idleness and the humor of the age. horses for the most part neighing and swans singing when they die. of which elephants have given many examples.

wherein 'tis equally desirable to possess. a spot. that superficial ugliness. and the Holy Word often says good. and should sooner have trusted to the vigor of that age than of this. lies wholly before me: what remains has more to do with death." and Plato. ta en                   ." We have nothing that excels it in reputation. had he not corrected it by education. I should willingly maintain the priority in good things. if. have. great men in this faculty. and old age is as unfit for this ind of business as for any other. and my learning meagerly and poorly: this accidentally and accessorily. And what if this gracious favor which fortune has lately offered me upon the account of this wor . the mind grows costive and thic in growing old.that of quotation. had befallen me in that time of my life. Maturity has its defects as well as green years. never neglected beauty in their greatest affairs. Not every shoe of smooth shining leather. never so excellent a soul made itself. plays the fool if he thin s to squeeze anything out thence. would I have professed writing. is called deformity. which nevertheless is always the most imperious. should I find it a prating death. I would willingly give an account at my departure. when it means fair. it presents itself in the front. according to the song that Plato calls an idle thing." this refers to an unnatural ugliness and deformity of limbs. There is nothing more probable than the conformity and relation of the body to the soul: "Ipsi animi magni refert. quali in corpore locati sint: multa enim e corpore existunt. I believe he did but scoff. no more did the first Scipio. I had written in a time nearer to my studies. I had spo en sooner. that does not relish of dreaming. and of my death itself. And I find that Cyrus. Alexander. and so unsuitable to the beauty of his soul. was of this predicament. As Socrates said of his. but in saying so. that potent and advantageous quality. she had not corrupted her judges by the luster of her beauty. I deliver my ignorance in pomp and state. If I would have spo en by learning. it betrayed equal ugliness in his soul. quae obtundant. dotage and driveling. but we call ugliness also an unseemliness at first sight. in members nevertheless of good symmetry and perfect. and disgusts us on very slight grounds. Socrates was a perfect exemplar in all great qualities. when I had more wit and better memory. for some reasons often wholly inexplicable. "the privilege of nature. and of little certainty in the opinion of men. the three masters of the world. The other. and Caesar. stri es deeper in. but every shoe well made. he called it "a short tyranny. The deformity. instead of this. which is principally lodged in the face. by the complexion. as his custom was. a rugged countenance. that principally and expressly. soon to be lost! Two of my acquaintance. it has the first place in the commerce of men. in my opinion. He who commits his decrepitude to the press. opening her robe. lost half. and I am vexed that he had so deformed a face and body as is said. is of least prejudice to the state of the mind. and write specifically of nothing. in refusing to publish at forty years old. himself being so amorous and such an admirer of beauty: Nature did him wrong. quae acuant mentem: multa. nor of any science but of that inscience. which I am to give an account of. more substantial. The same word in Gree signifies both fair and good. and worse. that they might stay till threescore. I have chosen a time when my life. as others do. {BK2_3 ^paragraph 85} I cannot often enough repeat how great an esteem I have for beauty. that clothed a very beautiful soul in La Boetie. seduces and prepossesses our judgments with great authority and wonderful impression. but nothing. Phryne had lost her cause in the hands of an excellent advocate. shows the shape of the foot within. which by a more proper name.

menaces of a dangerous and malignant nature. to satisfy the divine justice. by which men guess at our internal complexions and our fortunes to come. That reason which straightens Socrates from his vicious bend." said he. and in use solely among ourselves. severe from rugged. To him who as ed why people oftener and longer frequent the company of handsome persons: "That question. among men you never saw before. There are favorable physiognomies." and that the sovereign precept is to "conform ourselves to her. to prognosticate from them future events. as I have said elsewhere. corrected my natural composition by the force of reason. renders him obedient to the gods and men of authority in his city. veneration is equally due to him. and that. but also in the beasts. malicious from pensive. Such as accuse ladies of contradicting their beauty by their manners. is a thing that does not very directly and simply lie under the chapter of beauty and deformity. for. "That we cannot fail in following Nature. and I believe there is some art in distinguishing affable from merely simple faces. between two beautiful eyes. in peace and good intelligence. as on the contrary I have read.                     . I consider it within two fingers' breadth of goodness. there may dwell some air of probity and trust. as Socrates did. is a matter that I shall leave undecided. was tolerably wholesome and good. I would have it such as that laws and religions should not ma e. born and rooted in us from the seed of universal reason. infection in a time of pestilence. than God." Most of the philosophers. when there is a person whose beauty comes near the images of the gods. not because his soul is immortal. Shall I say this by the way? that I see. paid for their schooling. of victorious enemies. one rather than another. and much more hurtful than ingenious and subtle. and the greatest. of their own accord. and with whom to intrust your life. scornful from melancholic. There are beauties which are not only haughty. riches. imprinted in every man by nature. and such other bordering qualities. insipid. but because he is mortal. I have. A person's loo is but a feeble warranty. simply and implicitly embraced this ancient rule. but my nurse's mil . I would most severely scourge the wic ed ones who belie and betray the promises that nature has planted in their foreheads. I have let myself go as I came. and those lineaments. And yet I fancy that those features and molds of face. but sour. nor all fog and stin . do not always hit right. Use demonstrates to us a vast distinction between devotion and conscience. and without conduct. my two principal parts live. but perfect and authorize it. 'Tis a doctrine ruinous to all government. so that in a crowd. as to my own concern. beauty. which persuades the people that a religious belief is alone sufficient. a certain image of scholastic probity. a slave to precepts. and if I had to lash them." Aristotle says that the right of command appertains to the beautiful. no more than every good odor and serenity of air promises health. in greater esteem than 'tis worth. Not only in the men that serve me. and have not in the least disturbed my inclination by art.out of some ancient poet. you shall presently choose. "health." I have not. and acquired wisdom by the favor and mediation of their beauty. "is only to be as ed by the blind. It seems as if there were some luc y and some unluc y faces. and yet not properly upon the consideration of beauty. and others that are not only gentle but more than that. I should with greater severity punish malice under a mild and gentle aspect. and fettered with hope and fear. to whom to surrender. I contend not. and yet it is something considerable too. in a face which is none of the best. courageous in death. that finds it has wherewithal to support itself without help.

He presently popped in my ears this flim-flam: "That. and that having been surprised in disorder. a mista e. and pretend to more from our own conduct than appertains to us: and therefore it is that our designs so often miscarry. and his party being too wea . I willingly incline toward excuse and the gentlest interpretation. whom (he said) he concluded to be all either dead or ta en." I innocently did my best to comfort. so soon as he had news of his men. and all in a foam." "Heu! tantum attriti corporis ossa vides. He saw himself master of his enterprise.I have a favorable aspect. But the two following examples are. moreover. or. There I found him. would not have his horse put up in the stable. This mystery began a little to awa en my suspicion. both in form and interpretation. and had heard of their quarrel. and that he was in great trouble for his followers. and to be importunate to be let in. and throw myself headlong into her arms. peradventure. and invited them all to come in. have put a very great confidence in me. and after them more. I caused the gates to be opened to him. prudent. who presented themselves in the same countenance and affright. with every appearance of alarm. The last comers remained on horsebac in my courtyard. who was with me in the parlor. having ever found her more discreet about. while their leader. how much my house might be envied. he had fled to my gates for refuge. saying he should immediately retire. as I do to every one. I new him by name. pretending that they had the enemy at their heels. and still more. that his enemy had given him a very bris chase." and that ma es quite a contrary show to that of Socrates. as being my neighbor and something related to me. persons who had no manner of nowledge of me. as I always do. and a greater friend to my affairs. and I have in foreign parts thence obtained singular and rare favors. his scheme was to come to my gates alone. in that we do not enough trust heaven with our affairs. unless convinced by manifest evidence. There are some actions in my life whereof the conduct may justly be called difficult. Shortly after came four or five of his soldiers. whom I also new. and do not more believe in those perverse and unnatural inclinations. methin s. thin ing there was nothing to be got by having begun to do a courtesy. of these. And in truth I am naturally very little inclined to suspicion and distrust. worth particular relation: a certain person planned to surprise my house and me in it. than I do in monsters and miracles. I was not ignorant what an age I lived in. and I have hitherto found more reason to applaud than to blame myself for so doing. if you please. whether in their own affairs or mine. and I had several examples of others of my acquaintance to whom a mishap of this sort had happened. It has often befallen me. supposing the third part to have been my own. that upon the mere credit of my presence and air. But. to get in too. I ta e men according to the common order. Heaven is jealous of the extent that we attribute to the right of human prudence above its own. and nothing now                             . and refresh him. assure. I let myself go the most natural and simple way. his horse panting. a man who willingly commit myself to Fortune. and I am. unless I went through with it. Chreme. very well mounted and armed. and cuts it all the shorter by how much the more we amplify it. about half a league off. doubtless the other two-thirds were absolutely hers. {BK2_3 ^paragraph 90} "Quid dixi. habere me? imo habui. We ma e. and that I could not disengage myself from them without spoiling all. and had fair reason to repose confidence in him. than I am myself. he had met with a certain enemy of his. to the number of five and twenty or thirty.

without any apparent impulse. in a planned and deliberate enterprise. one of them overtoo me on the third day. seeing the indiscreet liberty I ta e to say. in a very great debate about my life. and that they had mounted me upon a pitiful jade that was not li ely to run from them. right or wrong. withdrawn into the thic of a neighboring forest. the first was illed not long ago. was my liberty. truly. that I owed my deliverance to my countenance. that rendered me unworthy of such a misadventure. followed at a distance by a band of foot soldiers. I had not lived so long without quarrels and without giving offense. in truth. and causing as much as could be recovered. and it. jam Castoris.                                   . and two or three parties of horse. The most prominent among them. and dispersed my servants to others. a very long contest about my ransom. {BK2_3 ^paragraph 95} Another time. After two or three hours that we had been in this place. dismounted. and I was attac ed by fifteen or twenty gentlemen in visors. without promise of any other ransom.remained but its execution. for the rest did not much concern me at that time. in such a time. They were. his followers. 'Tis possible that the Divine goodness willed to ma e use of this vain instrument for my preservation. and the liberty and boldness of my speech. He has since several times said (for he was not ashamed to tell the story himself) that my countenance and fran ness had snatched the treachery out of his hands. who pulled off his visor and told me his name. I had not ridden far but I was discovered. but the best present they made me. and of this reconsideration. from various places. relying upon some truce. and should secure me from its repetition. being very much astonished to find him come away and leave his prey behind him. We had. that it was manifest I was not nown to them. which they set so high. even to my money-box. whatever comes into my head. himself to tell the story. robbed. If my face did not answer for me." {BK2_3 ^paragraph 100} behold a sudden and unexpected alteration. "Tunc animis opus. He again mounted his horse. of which these my assailants had given me warning. and become just by usage (for. I plainly confessed to them of what party I was." I still insisted upon the truce. ma ing search among the troopers for my scattered property. in this copse. there were various circumstances that clearly showed the danger I was in. to see when he would give the signal. repeatedly told me at the time over and over again. which was not to be despised. my money-box ta en. I saw the chief return to me with gentler language. were sent out to seize me. and. just published in the army. if men did not read in my eyes and in my voice the innocence of my intention. moreover. having given order that they should carry us away prisoners several ways. and committed me to the guard of fifteen or twenty harquebuseers. The true cause of so sudden a change. implorata. "Jam prece Pollucis. I was ta en. moreover. and of so miraculous a repentance. to be restored to me. I too a journey through a very tic lish country. defended me the next day from other and worse ambushes. The last of these two gentlemen is yet living. at the first dash. I do not yet rightly understand. and whither I was going). who had their eyes intent upon him. too willing they should have the gain of what they had already ta en from me. and my horses and equipage divided among new masters. my trun s rifled. Aenea. and I being already got some two or three mus et-shots from the place. tunc pectore firmo.

when for such as are displeased at it. the horror of the first murder ma es me fear a second. and moreover. 'tis said.                                       . as he does a thousand other things. "merciful to the man. or horses laid on at several stages to be ta en fresh upon occasion. quam satis animi ad vindicanda peccata habeam. appear uncivil. I disli e to employ myself. who am but a Knave of Clubs. seeing he is not evil to the wic ed. but not to his wic edness. besides that they rode upon. The Numidian men-at-arms had always a led horse in one hand. which was said of Charillus. when for such as are willing. and our romances commonly use the phrase of adestrer for accompagner. It happened very ill to Artybius. conjunction. between the shoulders as it was reared up upon his master. the Roman gentlemen armed at all pieces. that I cannot do it. or that too offense at my liberty. it being the occasion of his death. The Mamalu es ma e their boast that they have the   and to judge so rashly of things." Ordinary judgments exasperate themselves to punishment by the horror of the fact: but it cools mine. by them called funales or dextrarios. without which he had been slain. to reduce them again into order. and I am so slow to offend. I have rather chosen to fail in point of justice than to do it: "Ut magis peccari nolim. because he is so even to the wic ed. or ablative."He must needs be good. and the deformity of the first cruelty ma es me abhor all imitation of it. And what the Italians report that in the battle of Fornova King Charles' horse. variously and contradictorily. and who do not yet now adjectives. and thence it is that we call our horses of service destriers." Or thus. tamque docile equorum genus. indeed. that running full speed. with Onesilus. ing of Salamis. when they are once engaged and grappled. interacerrimam saepe pugnam. with reason. without bridle or saddle. This way may." said he. even upon the account of reason itself. in unlawful things. so. by which means you remain at the mercy of their quarrel. Nor do I hate any person. to be mounted upon a horse trained after this manner. the squire of Onesilus cleaving the horse down with a scythe. desultorum in modum. ex fesso. desultorios equos. to accompany.{BK2_4 IV. fighting. man to man. That may be applied to me. with ic s and plunges. was reproached for having been too merciful to a wic ed man: "I was. you cannot lose them from their hold. general of the Persian army. to say the truth. ing of Sparta: "He cannot be good." Even as in lawful actions. words repeated have another ind of sound and sense. which were either led horses." Aristotle. and when occasion has required me to sentence criminals. and ill adapted to our way of conversation. They also called those that were trained in such sort. side by side. equos. if it be true. I who never learned any language but by rote. disengaged his master from the enemy that pressed upon him. to change in the heat of battle: "quibus. I thin I have read that the Romans had a sort of horses. if he had it from my own mouth. to fall both with mouth and heels upon any that front or oppose them: but it often happens that they do more harm to their friends than to their enemies." There are many horses trained to help their riders so as to run upon any one that appears with a drawn sword. OF WAR-HORSES. binos trahentibus. but I have never met with any who judged it outrageous or malicious. I do not ma e conscious enough of employing myself. OR DESTRIERS I here have become a grammarian. armatis transultare mos erat: tanta velocitas ipsis. sounds li e a very great chance.for Plutarch delivers it both these ways. in recentem equum. would shift and throw ourselves from one to the other.

jumenta produci. on the word of command. two miracles of military art. that they might have nothing but their own force. As nature designed to ma e of this person and of Alexander. 'Tis said. {BK2_4 ^paragraph 5} There are several examples in the Roman history (and Suetonius more particularly observes it of Caesar) of captains who. neque his fuga nota. And so the first thing they did to prevent the mutinies and insurrections of nations of late conquest was to ta e from them their arms and horses. that by nature and custom they were taught to now and distinguish the enemy. whether well or sic . Plato recommends it for health. or will not answer to the spur. on pressing occasions. an institution of which King Cyrus was the founder. dedicated his statue to the goddess Venus. I do not willingly alight when I am once on horsebac . according to a word or sign given.most ready horses of any cavalry in the world. and especially at the time they had war with the English. and turn. You sta e (whatever Chrysanthes in Xenophon says to the contrary) your valor and your fortune upon that of your horse. "Quo haud dubie superat Romanus. for it is the place where. with his hands behind him. and to fall foul upon him with mouth and heels. Our ancestors. entertain. without saddle or bridle. being mounted on the bare bac . and that the greatest distinction between freemen and slaves among them was that the one rode on horsebac and the other went on foot. his fear or fury shall ma e you reputed rash or cowardly. therefore."                                         . confer. I do not thin it strange that those battles were more firm and furious than those that are fought on horsebac : "Caedebant pariter. and perform all its airs. ta e the air. neque illis. your honor must answer for it. that in his youth. And. and present them to their riders. as also for the advantage they hoped in this sort of fight. and all on horsebac . and particularly of Caesar. and constancy to trust to in a quarrel of so great concern as life and honor. who after his death. as also Pliny says it is good for the stomach and the joints. his hoofs being divided in the form of fingers. so one would say she had done her utmost to arm them after an extraordinary manner: for every one nows that Alexander's horse. he could ma e the horse run. I find myself most at ease. if he have an ill mouth. as also to gather up with their teeth darts and lances scattered upon the field. had a head inclining to the shape of a bull. and that he was so honored after his death as to have a city erected to his name." The Grand Signior to this day suffers not a Christian or a Jew to eep a horse of his own throughout his empire. in all their greatest engagements and pitched battles fought for the most part on foot. We read in Xenophon a law forbidding any one who was master of a horse to travel on foot. Bucephalus. both of Caesar and Pompey. commanded their cavalry to alight. Caesar had also one which had forefeet li e those of a man. ma e bargains. both by that means to ta e from them all hopes of flight. Trogus and Justin say that the Parthians were wont to perform all offices and ceremonies. his wounds or death bring your person into the same danger. pariterque ruebant Victores victique. Let us go further into this matter since here we are. and therefore it is that we so often meet in Caesar: "arma proferri. stop. courage." says Livy. obsides dari jubet. not only in war but also all affairs whether public or private. that among their other excellent qualities they were both very good horsemen. that he would suffer himself to be mounted and governed by none but his master. which li ewise was not to be ridden by any but Caesar himself.

A man may repose more confidence in a sword he holds in his hand than in a bullet he discharges out of a pistol.. tum                     . permittere vulnera ventis. A man himself stri es much surer than the air can direct his blow. which they sometimes in the field darted by hand.{BK2_4 ^paragraph 10} Their battles were much better disputed. and the wheel: if any of which fail it endangers your fortune. the astonishment of the ear abated. And yet. funda. "Et." And the means we choose to ma e use of in so great a hazard should be as much as possible at our own command: wherefore I should advise to choose weapons of the shortest sort. "Magnum stridens contorta Phalarica venit. too fire in its flight. rosin. magno ex intervallo loci. the stone. with greater bravery. {BK2_4 ^paragraph 15} Bella gerit gladiis. oil. and hope we shall one day lay it aside. et gens quaecumque virorum est. abominated these treacherous missile arms. sometimes from several sorts of engines for the defense of beleaguered places. too away all the use of arms and limbs. sed quem locum destinassent. wherein there must be a concurrence of several circumstances to ma e it perform its office. I loo upon it as a weapon of very little execution. that it might pierce through and through an armed man. our insmen in Asia. would produce a common inconvenience to the whole crowd. which every one grows familiar with in a short time. by which they supplied the effects of our powder and shot." These pieces of battery had not only the execution of but the thunder of our cannon also: "Ad ictus moenium cum terribili sonitu editos." They had moreover. wax. coronas modici circuli.." But of that weapon I shall spea more fully when I come to compare the arms of the ancients with those of modern use. pavor et trepidatio cepit.. quo ferre velint. etiam gloriosius se pugnare putant: iidem quum aculeus sagittae aut glandis abditae introrsus tenui vulnere in speciem urit. I should thin they would also damage the assailant. They darted their spears with so great force as ofttimes to transfix two targets and two armed men at once. the powder. and that the camp being as it were planted with these flaming truncheons. mare apertum incessentes. "Non tam patentibus plagis moventur.. non capita modo hostium vulnerabant. only. and lighting upon the body of a man or his target. other devices which custom made them perfect in (which seem incredible to us who have not seen them).. coming to close fight. and such of which we are able to give the best account." The Gauls. it being their use to fight. Phalarica.. Fulminis acta modo. Nowadays there are nothing but routs: "primus clamor atque impetus rem decernit.. armed at the point with an iron three feet long. Ensis habet vires. hand to hand. less certain of execution or of shorter carriage: {BK2_4 ^paragraph 20} "Saxis globosis. ubi latior quam altior plaga est. the shaft being rolled round with flax. and pin them together. by the way. That missile weapon which the Italians formerly made use of both with fire and by sling was much more terrible: they called a certain ind of javelin.. Neither was the effect of their slings. assueti trajicere. and other combustible matter.

came very near to our modern inventions. Flemings and Brabanters loo ed upon as a miracle. "having never seen the li e before. rigida cervice. for the greatest dignity and grandeur. ept his horses to their due wor . love to be mounted upon large mules. But in this discourse of horses and horsemanship.in rabiem et pudorem tam parvae perimentis pestis versi. among other rules of the order. virga. having taught their horses not to stir in the meantime from the place. who rode their horses without saddle or bridle. The                                           . ta ing them up. he who first instituted the Order of the Band or Scarf in Spain. to see a horse made to perform all his airs with a switch only and the reins upon his nec ." says he. and according to their custom. was common with the Massilians. they fear not to attac a great many. they were so fierce and vicious. Caesar spea ing of the Suabians: "in the charges they ma e on horsebac . to which they presently run again upon occasion. "they often throw themselves off to fight on foot." That which I have formerly wondered at. that the Assyrians were fain to eep their horses fettered in the stable. Picards." which are his very words. on the contrary. a doctor of divinity. one might return them bac li e a dart. et extento capite currentium. His Cyrus. He says also." "Et Numidae infraeni cingunt. the nearer they are to the person of Prester John. fraenorum nescia. whom Monstrelet reports always to have ridden aside through the streets of Paris li e a woman. quae nudo residens Massylia dorso. that the Gascons had terrible horses. and they despise such as ma e use of those conveniences: insomuch that." {BK2_4 ^paragraph 25} A pretty description of something very li e a harquebus-shot." "Equi sine froenis. The engines that Dionysius invented at Syracuse to shoot vast massy darts and stones of a prodigious greatness. this I had lately out of Guevara's Letters. who was so great a master in all manner of horse service. The ten thousand Gree s in their long and famous retreat met with a nation who very much galled them with great and strong bows. upon his mule. whoever gave these the title of Golden Epistles. "Et gens. which the French. and never suffered them to have anything to eat till first they had earned it by the sweat of some ind of exercise. we are not to forget the pleasant posture of one Maistre Pierre Pol. that they should never ride mule or mulet. prosternunt corpora humi. elsewhere. being but a very few in number." King Alphonso. with so great impetuosity and at so great a distance. they never sat down in their camp till it was first well fortified with ditches and ramparts. that. carrying arrows so long. deformis ipse cursus. {BK2_4 ^paragraph 30} Ora levi flectit. that to avoid any disorder this tedious preparation might bring upon them in case of surprise. and that it required so much time to loose and harness them. and with them pierce a buc ler and an armed man through and through. The courtier says. that till his time it was a disgrace to a gentleman to ride on one of these creatures: but the Abyssinians. {BK2_4 ^paragraph 35} Xenophon tells us. that would wheel in their full speed. upon penalty of a mar of silver. nothing is so unmanly and so base as to use saddles or pads. had another ind of opinion of them than I have. gave them this.

and presented them with a goblet of mares' mil (a beverage of greatest esteem among them). Quintus Fabius Maximus Rutilianus. to creep into their bellies and enjoy the benefit of that vital heat. {BK2_4 ^paragraph 40} These new-discovered people of the Indies when the Spaniards first landed among them. coming to the men to sue for peace and pardon. they failed not to offer of the same to the horses. In the other Indies. too this course. and if. insomuch that after they were subdued.Scythians when in the field and in scarcity of provisions used to let their horses' blood which they dran ." The du e of Muscovy was anciently obliged to pay this reverence to the Tartars. in a battle with the Samnites. marching his army through certain waste lands near                                         . the third to ride upon a camel. Some one of our late writers tells us that he has been in countries in those parts. that when they sent an embassy to him he went out to meet them on foot. who by that means gave them a bloody defeat. with the same ind of harangue to them they had made to the others: interpreting their neighing for a language of truce and friendship. seeing his horse. after that furious battle wherein he was overthrown by Tamerlane. they might through weapons and men open the way to his foot. which rendered her so heavy and indisposed. so that having nothing to chec their career. transcurrerunt. that they loo ed upon the first as gods and the other as animals ennobled above their nature. were in so great necessity for drin that they were fain to quench their thirst with their horses' urine. I should rather have thought it would refresh her. They say indeed. was in a hopeful way of securing his own person by the fleetness of an Arabian mare he had under him. infractis omnibus hastis. in drin ing. to ma e them unbridle all their horses and spur their hardest. had so great an opinion both of the men and horses. and the last and least honor to be carried or drawn by one horse only. and to bring them gold and provisions. many illed and embowelled their horses. the second to ride in a coach with four horses. The same command was given by Quintus Fulvius Flaccus against the Celtiberians: "Id quum majore vi equorum facietis. and very much at their ease. after three or four charges. To show how much cheaper the Tur ish armies support themselves than our European forces. to ride upon an elephant was the first and royal place of honor. quod saepe Romanos equites cum laude fecisse sua. that to shelter and preserve themselves from the cold.. where they ride upon oxen with pads. he was bound to lic it off with his tongue. and bridles. Croesus. si effroenatos in hostes equos immittis. had he not been constrained to let her drin her fill at the ford of a river in his way. but. detractisque fraenis. a drop fell by chance upon their horse's mane. and salt it for their use. as to drin ing." Those of Crete. that he was afterward easily overta en by those that pursued him. stirrups. and sustained themselves by that diet: "Venit et epoto Sarmata pastus equo. that to let a horse stale ta es him off his mettle. Bajazet. 'tis said. being besieged by Metellus. memorioe proditum est. The army that Bajazet had sent into Russia was overwhelmed with so dreadful a tempest of snow.. had failed of brea ing into the enemy's battalion. that besides the soldiers drin nothing but water and eat nothing but rice and salt flesh pulverized (of which every one may easily carry about with him a month's provision) they now how to feed upon the blood of their horses as well as the Muscovite and Tartar. bis ultro citroque cum magna strage hostium.

and so they fought on horsebac and on foot. one of those of which it is most proud. and then to prop and support it.Sardis. the most nowing in that art. to show the firmness of his seat. who. and this nowledge that a man can proceed no further. riding all the while full speed. A good horseman. wherein a man can scarce possibly introduce anything of his own. One while in an idle and frivolous subject. I leave the choice of my arguments to fortune. who served our King Henry II. one foot upon one saddle and the other upon the other. to determine that this or that is the best. I do not thin that for graceful riding any nation in the world excels the French. that has his mane and ears entire. who had the best seat and the best method in brea ing horses. is one effect of its virtue. which he got his living by. I have seen a man ride with both his feet upon the saddle. and finding it too deep for my stature. carrying another man upon his shoulders. ta e off his saddle. with the points upward. fixed in the harness. several who would ride full speed with their heels upward. and one who bridled and saddled his horse with nothing but his teeth. returning triumphant from the victory into the city of Syracuse. according to our way of spea ing. another while. having galloped over a cap. ma e at it very good shots bac ward with his bow. seems rather to have respect to the courage of the man than address in riding. the prince of Sulmona. caused all the horses they had ta en to be shorn and led in triumph. and at his return ta e it up again and replace it. I eep me on the shore. ta e up anything from the ground. would throw themselves off and into the saddle again by turn. for I never see all of anything: neither do they who so                                             . among other insolences. I employ it in a noble subject. the other standing bolt upright upon him and ma ing very good shots with his bow. that in these essays I ta e hold of all occasions where. and of a thousand paths. Alexander fought with a nation called Dahae. whose discipline it was to march two and two together armed on one horse. to the war. OF DEMOCRITUS AND HERACLITUS THE judgment is an utensil proper for all subjects. one after another by turns. held reals under his nees and toes. The Lacedaemonians. Of all that ever I saw. riding a rough horse at Naples to all his airs. {BK2_5 V. the way being so beaten on every side that he must of necessity wal in the steps of another: in such a case. they are all ali e to me. another who between two horses. When I was a boy. I never design to go through any of them. though it happen to be a subject I do not very well understand. I try however. I try to find out matter whereof to compose a body. in the height of its speed. There has been seen in my time at Constantinople two men upon one horse. yea. {BK2_4 ^paragraph 45} We call a horse cheval entire. which the horses devoured with great appetite. as if they had been nailed there. sounding it at a distance. and which Herodotus says was a prodigy of ominous portent to his affairs. setting one foot on the ground and the other in the stirrup: with twenty other ape's tric s. would ride full career. one that has been tossed and tumbled by a thousand hands. and their heads upon the saddle between several scimitars. and no other will pass muster. was Monsieur de Carnavalet. 'tis the wor of the judgment to ta e the way that seems best. met with an infinite number of serpents. and being in fight one of them alighted. having defeated the Athenians in Sicily. and will have an oar in everything: which is the reason. and ta e that she first presents to me.

green. all strip themselves at their entering into us. he who does not see her in those inferior offices as well as in those of nobler note. but sprin ling here one word and there another.                                     . or obliged to eep close to my subject. and cast her in their own mold. and receive a new robe. on the contrary. and their contraries. it belongs to us to give ourselves an account of them. not so wide but as deep as I can. or superficial. dar . and that not according to it. Health. conscience. without varying at my own liberty and pleasure. spite. beauty. every one is a queen in her own dominions. 'Tis there that our offerings and our vows are due. and sometimes to pinch it to the bones: I give a stab. one while to loo it over only. or proceedings. The winds of passions ta e most hold of her in her highest flights. nor than another in unraveling a passage upon which depends the safety of man ind. Let us. another while to ripple up the s in. deep. To what a degree does this ridiculous diversion molest the soul. A man ma es a judgment of a horse. sweet. but when we once ta e them into us. therefore. and never handles more than one thing at a time. as best pleases each of them. because it is not play enough. I might perhaps venture to handle something or other to the bottom. peradventure. and am for the most part tempted to ta e it in hand by some new light I discover in it. there are some of a lower and meaner form. ignorance. every particular subject. malice. and the rather by reason that she wholly applies herself to. Things in respect to themselves have. measures and conditions. Did I now myself less. rules. and of what color. and to my own govering method. nay. patterns cut from several pieces and scattered without design and without engaging myself too far. and I am ashamed to lay out as much thought and study upon it as would serve to much better uses. not only by seeing him when he is showing off his paces. from the soul. if he played at chess? what string of his soul was not touched by this idle and childish game? I hate and avoid it. brown. Among the functions of the soul. Death is terrible to Cicero. but by his very wal . for they are not agreed upon any common standard of forms. Why should not I judge of Alexander at table. indifferent to Socrates.largely promise to show it to others. and of another fashion. nowledge. riches. coveted by Cato. Of a hundred members and faces that everything has. He did not more pump his brains about his glorious expedition into the Indies. and of what quality. never fully discovers her. and by seeing him stand in the stable. the soul forms them as she pleases. All motion discovers us: the very same soul of Caesar. ranting and drin ing at the prodigious rate he sometimes used to do? Or. I am not responsible for them. bright. when all her faculties are summoned together upon this trivial account! and how fair an opportunity she herein gives every one to now and to ma e a right judgment of himself? I do not more thoroughly sift myself in any other posture than this: what passion are we exempted from in it? Anger. and. Our good or ill has no other dependence but on ourselves. and exercises her whole virtue upon. they draw and ma e her follow in their train. but according to herself. authority. she is best shown where she moves her simpler pace. their weight. that made itself so conspicuous in marshaling and commanding the battle of Pharsalia. I ta e one. that it is too grave and serious a diversion. and giving up myself to doubt and uncertainty. and a vehement desire of getting the better in a concern wherein it were more excusable to be ambitious of being overcome. and not to fortune: she has no power over our manners. sharp. and to be deceived in my own inability. was also seen as solicitous and busy in the softer affairs of love and leisure. peradventure. impatience. no more excuse ourselves upon the external qualities of things.

and avoided our conversation as dangerous. never appeared abroad but with a jeering and laughing countenance. nowise befits a man of honor. appeared always with a sorrowful loo . we are not so full of mischief as inanity. Our condition is as ridiculous as risible. who passionately desired our ruin. I do not thin that we are so unhappy as we are vain. promise to themselves some years beyond it. whereas the things we laugh at are by that expressed to be of no moment. for what a man hates he lays to heart. finding human condition ridiculous and vain. and." said the younger Cato to those who would stay his hand from illing himself. He thought that to be a mature and advanced age. What I say in this example may be said in all others. he was satisfied that the enterprise was just. but because it expresses more contempt and condemnation than the other. Of the same strain was Statilius' answer. or bladders puffed up with wind. I see that the sages contract it very much in comparison of the common opinion: "What. and I thin we can never be despised according to our full desert. when Brutus courted him into the conspiracy against Caesar. and tears in his eyes: "Alter Ridebat. And therefore Diogenes. and made nothing of the great Alexander esteeming us no better than flies. {BK2_5 ^paragraph 5} Democritus and Heraclitus were two philosophers. to excel above the common rate in frivolous things. who passed away his time in rolling himself in his tub. could they be privileged from the infinite number of accidents to which we are by a natural subjection exposed. whereas Heraclitus commiserating that same condition of ours. or have in us so much malice as folly. and endanger wisdom for a company of fools. of whom the first. who said. that a wise man ought to do nothing but for himself. according to the doctrine of Hegesias. soothing their thoughts with I now not what course of nature. every employment of man manifests him equally with any other. consequently in my opinion. that it was not reasonable a wise man should hazard himself for his country.for to be eminent. they might have some reason so to do. proceeding from wic ed and depraved natures: the other valued us so little that we could neither trouble nor infect him by our example. Compassion and bewailing seem to imply some esteem of and value for the thing bemoaned. Every particle. a juster judge than Timon. forasmuch as he only was worthy of it: and to the saying of Theodorus. And such as. surnamed the Man-hater. not out of fear. This last was an enemy to all man ind. considering how few arrive unto it. nor so miserable as we are vile and mean. flebat contrarius alter. {BK2_6 VI. What an idle                   . OF AGE I cannot allow of the way in which we settle for ourselves the duration of our life. but from contempt of our society: concluding us incapable of doing good as ill. was a sharper and more penetrating. and left us to herd one with another. quoties a limine moverat unum Protuleratque pedem." {BK2_5 ^paragraph 10} I am clearly for the first humor: not because it is more pleasant to laugh than to weep. but he did not thin man ind worthy of a wise man's concern. "am I now of an age to be reproached that I go out of the world too soon?" And yet he was but eight-and-forty years old.

and as if our ordinary condition did not expose us to these inconveniences. both in former ages and our own. 'Tis a lease she only signs by particular favor. which is general. and it may. and since we have exceeded the ordinary bounds. and therefore. I should be of opinion that our vocation and employment should be as far as possible extended for the public good: I find the fault on the other side. we ought rather. 'Tis a fault in our very laws to maintain this error: these say that a man is not capable of managing his own estate till he be five-and-twenty years old. and which the law of nature has set as a limit. that when once forty years we should consider it as an age to which very few arrive. more were performed before the age of thirty than after. Let us no longer flatter ourselves with these fine words. It is indeed. not to be exceeded: but it is.conceit is it to expect to die of a decay of strength. to call that natural. peradventure. to carry him through all the traverses and difficulties she has strewed in the way of this long career. and universal. within that term or never. that they do not employ us early enough. {BK2_6 ^paragraph 10} Of all the great human actions I ever heard or read of. Servius Tullius superseded the nights of above seven-and-forty years of age from the fatigues of war. and this                     . we should ac nowledge that so extraordinary a fortune as that which has hitherto rescued us from those eminent perils. A soul that has not by that time given evident earnest of its force and virtue will never after come to proof." as they say in Dauphine. it is a sign that we are pretty well advanced. I believe our souls are adult at twenty as much as they are ever li e to be. For seeing that men do not usually proceed so far. is not li ely to continue long. {BK2_6 ^paragraph 5} For my part. considering it is a ind of death of all others the most rare and very seldom seen? We call that only a natural death. the bourn beyond which we are not to pass. and yet would have a man to be thirty before he could be fit to determine a dispute about a gutter. Augustus dismissed them at forty-five. and to propose to ourselves no shorter lease of life than that. "Si l'espine nou picque quand nai A pene que picque jamai. and singular. and ept us alive beyond the ordinary term of living. so much less natural than the others 'tis the last and extremest sort of dying: and the more remote. I have observed. that thirty years old was sufficient for a judge. be drowned in shipwrec . which is the just measure of life. be snatched away with a pleurisy or the plague. and then with a pass to boot. a privilege she is rarely seen to give us to last till then. extraordinary. as if it were contrary to nature to see a man brea his nec with a fall. of what sort soever. whereas he will have much ado to manage his life so long. Augustus cut off five years from the ancient Roman standard. withal. we ought not to expect to go much further. This emperor was arbiter of the whole world at nineteen. though methin s it seems a little unreasonable that men should be sent to the fireside till five-and-fifty or sixty years of age. having escaped so many precipices of death whereinto we have seen so many other men fall. which is the effect of extremest age. be to one only in the space of two or three ages. and declared. and as capable then as ever. To die of old age is a death rare. And therefore my opinion is. common. the less to be hoped for. The natural qualities and virtues produce what they have of vigorous and fine.

et obtusis ceciderunt viribus artus. Every one lays weight upon the sin of his companions." {BK2_6 ^paragraph 15} Sometimes the body first submits to age. and of obscure symptoms. in my opinion. steadiness. lascivious. OF DRUNKENNESS THE world is nothing but variety and dissemblance: vices are all ali e. idemque. Claudicat ingenium.ofttimes in the very lives of the same men. As to my own particular. {BK2_7 VII. but although they are equally vices. Qui teneros caules alieni fregerit horti. and to how many ordinary and natural roc s it is exposed. but lightens his own. For the frailty of life considered. languish and decay. ought also to say the same of the science of distinguishing between vice and vice. or not assiduous at his devotion. great men after. yet they are not at all equal vices. that with those who ma e the best use of their time. I do certainly believe that since that age. nowledge and experience may increase with their years. and that very exactly performed. mensque. of much greater importance. but vivacity. and by how much the more it is a disease of no great pain to the sufferer. and tyrants get too much by it. citraque nequit consistere rectum. 'tis true. in comparison of others. and retired rather than advanced. Our very instructors themselves ran them sometimes. and I have seen enough who have got a wea ness in their brains before either in their legs or stomach. and he who has transgressed the ordinary bounds of a hundred paces. For this reason it is that I complain of our laws. traitors. "Ubi jam validis quassatum est viribus aevi Corpus. without which. but that they set us to wor too late. As Socrates said that the principal office of wisdom was to distinguish good from evil. very ill.                     . May I not confidently instance in those of Hannibal and his great concurrent Scipio? The better half of their lives they lived upon the glory they had acquired in their youth. and much more essentially our own. but by no means in comparison of themselves. tantumdem ut peccet." There is in this as great diversity is in anything whatever. Et qui nocturnus divum sacua legerit. so much greater is the danger. because another man is idle. promptitude. the best of whom are vicious. and it is not reasonable they should flatter their consciences. and other pieces of us. one ought not to give up so large a portion of it to childhood. not that they eep us too long to our wor . or that sacrilege is not worse than stealing a cabbage: "Nec vincet ratio hoc. and peradventure the Stoic understand them so. the virtuous and the wic ed will remain confounded and unrecognized. idleness and apprenticeship. sometimes the mind. is not to be believed. both my understanding and my constitution have rather decayed than improved." {BK2_7 ^paragraph 5} should not be in a worse condition than he that has advanced but ten. "Quos ultra. 'Tis possible. The confounding of the order and measure of sins is dangerous: murderers. as they are vices. delirat linquaque. we.

in those who have drun beyond measure. Other vices discompose the understanding: this totally overthrows it and renders the body stupid. as to Cassius. to the muleteers and servants of the basest office in the house." The worst state of man is that wherein he loses the nowledge and government of himself. drun enness seems to me to be a gross and brutish vice. who upon the very same occasion afterward illed Philip of Macedon. And 'tis said." {BK2_7 ^paragraph I could not have believed there had been so profound. clamor. tardescit lingua. perceiving in herself the first symptoms of breeding. when drun as the devil. "Cum vini vis penetravit. singultus. And the rudest nation this day in Europe is that alone where it is in fashion. made him drin to such a pitch that he could after abandon his beauty. and eep to their ran s: "Nec facilis victoria de madidis. a widow of chaste repute. though we now they were both so given to drin that they have often been fain to carry both the one and the other drun out of the senate. And I have been further told by a lady whom I highly honor and esteem. Lyaeo." {BK2_7 ^paragraph And the design of illing Caesar was as safely communicated to Cimber. no more than Tiberius did Cossus. having. de more. jurgia. he wormed out his secrets. as of a hedge strumpet. committing the most inward secrets of his affairs to Lucius Piso. And yet. and dead a degree of drun enness had I not read in history that Attalus. valor. there are vices wherein there is a mixture of nowledge. madet mens. a ing who by his excellent qualities gave sufficient testimony of his education in the house and company of Epaminondas. et Blaesis. "Tu sapientium {BK2_7 ^paragraph Curas et arcanum jocoso Consilium retegis Lyaeo. though he would often be drun . now their post. invited to supper the same Pausanias. as the must fermenting in a vessel. that near Bordeaux and about Castres where she lives. 10}                           15} 20}       25}     30}   . with whom he intrusted his whole counsels. and there are some vices that have something. gliscunt." Josephus tells us that by giving an ambassador the enemy had sent to him his full dose of liquor. who dran nothing but water. dexterity and address. among other things upon this subject. of generous in them. senseless.. diligence. "Hesterno inflatum venas.. this one is totally corporeal and earthly. to put a notable affront upon him. vents the most inward secrets. Consequitur gravitas membrorum. that. among the rest. if a man may so say. who conquered Thrace. We see our Germans. a country woman. prudence. {BK2_7 ^paragraph Nant oculi. remember the word. wor s up to the top whatever it has in the bottom. praepediuntur Crura vacillanti. The soul has greater part in the rest.{BK2_7 ^paragraph Now. Augustus. so wine. never found him faulty in the least. atque mero titubantibus.

" {BK2_7 ^paragraph 40} Cyrus. but the causes of suspicion every day more and more increasing. nay.innocently told her neighbors that if she had a husband she should thin herself with child. among the other qualities by which he claimed to be preferred before his brother Artaxerxes. It is true that antiquity has not much decried this vice. say that lest the digestive faculties of the stomach should grow idle. whereupon a young fellow that served her in the quality of a laborer. and at last growing up to a manifest proof. so delicate a palate is not required to ma e a good toper. I have heard Silvius. to refresh the soul. A man well advanced both in dignity and age. Secondly. and even among the Stoics there are some who advise fol s to give themselves sometimes the liberty to drin . and where would a man more justly find it than among the natural conveniences? But he did not ta e it right. magnum Socratem palmam promeruisse ferunt. "Hoc quoque virtutum quondam certamine. I loo upon it indeed as an unmanly and stupid vice. I find this vice costs a man's conscience less than the others. if he li ed the motion. nor hard to be found. having ta en too much of the bottle. besides that it is of no difficult preparation. as they hold. the writings even of several philosophers spea very tenderly of it. after the French fashion. for besides that I easily submit my belief to the authority of ancient opinions. and they yet live together man and wife. urged this excellence. to drin . And if we cannot please ourselves but it must cost us something. an excellent physician of Paris. Cato. which. it were not amiss once a month to rouse them by this excess. declared that he had one holiday found her. and then very                                             . and it's so much the better for them. to drun enness. that he could drin a great deal more than he. their pleasure is so much the more plentiful and nearer at hand. encouraged by this proclamation. If you found your pleasure upon drin ing of the best. and one author tells us that the Persians used to consult about their most important affairs after being well warmed with wine. "Narratur et prisci Catonis Saepe mero caluisse virtus. And in the best governed nations this trial of s ill in drin ing is very much in use." {BK2_7 ^paragraph 35} That censor and reprover of others. that whoever had done that deed and would fran ly confess it. among three principal commodities that he said remained to him of life. a consideration not altogether to be despised. My taste and constitution are greater enemies to this vice than I am. the poor woman was reduced to the necessity of causing it to be proclaimed in her parish church. that so renowned ing. she did not only promise to forgive. so fast asleep by the chimney and in so indecent a posture. more directly jostle public society. was reproached that he was a hard drin er. but less malicious and hurtful than the others. rec oned to me this for one. for delicacy and the curious choice of wines is therein to be avoided. Your taste must be more indifferent and free. you condemn yourself to the penance of drin ing of the worst. The Germans drin almost indifferently of all wines with delight: their business is to pour down and not to taste. but moreover to marry him. and to spur them lest they should grow dull and rusty. that he could conveniently do his business without wa ing her. almost all. but at two meals.

it being as it were the last pleasure the course of years deprives us of. of which wars he left us a journal under his own hand. when I was a boy. 'Tis not to be imagined what strange stories I have heard my father tell of the chastity of that age wherein he lived. with which they say he exercised his arms for throwing the bar or the stone. refuse no occasion nor omit any opportunity of drin ing. and scarce ever mount the stairs into his chamber without ta ing three or four steps at a time. and therefore we are to ta e greater liberty and stic closer to our wor . a man of high enterprise and famous success. and very modest. might with reason beget in me a desire of this faculty. he was monstrously punctual of his word. well proportioned. and yet it was after a long practice of arms beyond the mountains. the three-and-thirtieth year of his age. both relating to the public and to himself. and throw himself in his furred gown into the saddle. in my                                       . to the detriment of our affairs. and well nit. free from any manner of suspicion of ill. but it may be we are more addicted to Venus than our fathers were. humble. and some of them his own. He spo e well and little. For a man of little stature. where it ma es a long abode and produces. being both by art and nature cut out and finished for the service of ladies. But let us return to our bottle. and always have it in our minds. with virtuous women. first seats itself in the feet: that concerns infancy. that stand in need of some refreshment and support. The natural heat. and ofttimes added the day following to e e it out. I have seen him when past three score laugh at our exercises. whether on horsebac or afoot. li e shop-boys and laborers. ma e the tour of a table upon his thumbs. and at his going away appeared but too wise and discreet. and of a conscience and religion generally tending rather toward superstition than otherwise. His behavior was grave. They are two exercises that thwart and hinder one another in their vigor. sobriety renders us more spruce and amorous for the exercise of love. he was very solicitous of neatness and propriety both in his person and clothes. ever mixing his language with some illustration out of authors most in use. Of his vaulting he has left little miracles behind him. married at a well advanced maturity. The ancients spent whole nights in this exercise. wherein he has given a precise account from point to point of all passages. I have yet in the house to be seen canes poured full of lead. and collations I used to see in my father's house. I have seen a great lord of my time. were more usual and frequent then than now. Lechery wea ens our stomach on the one side. and that the after brea fasts. dinner snatches. Is it that we pretend to a reformation? Truly. or in fencing. upon his way home from Italy. no. especially in Spanish. and shoes with leaden soles to ma e him lighter for running or leaping. in the year 1528. And he was. he said there was scarce one woman of quality of ill fame in a whole province: he would tell of strange privacies. of a pleasing countenance. we should. inclining to brown. thence it mounts into the middle region. and very adroit in all noble exercises.. dran not much less than five quarts of wine. and for his own part solemnly swore he was a virgin at his marriage. say the good-fellows. Methin s we every day abridge and curtail the use of wine. It was for him to say it. very strong. that without setting himself to it. There is more time and constancy required than so. is to be too sparing of the favors of the god. moreover. Marcus Aurelius was very frequent in his mouth. and after his ordinary rate of drin ing at meals. and on the other. The pleasure we hold in esteem for the course of our lives ought to have a greater share of our time dedicated to it. But as to what I was spea ing of before.moderately. {BK2_7 ^paragraph 45} The incommodities of old age.

who mollifies the passions of the soul. whether the soul of a wise man can be overcome by the strength of wine? {BK2_7 ^paragraph 50} "Si munitae adhibet vim sapientiae. Let him be as wise as he will. and concludes the progress. and for that reason my last draught is always the greatest. a true and certain trial of every one's nature. and to mix a little liberally in their feasts the influence of Dionysos. but to join constancy to it is her utmost perfection. after all he is but a man. I mean when nothing should jostle and discompose her. where it ma es its final residence. and from being overthrown by its own wea ness. li e a vapor that still mounts upward. The same thing. and in his laws allows such merry meetings. and a slight wound has turned the judgment of others topsey-turvey. after forty. Is it to be imagined that an apoplexy will not stun Socrates as well as a porter? Some men have forgotten their own names by the violence of a disease. and than that what is there more frail. it has enough to do to deal with what it ta es in for its necessity. and that may not very well doubt. that the day is not to be employed with it. My constitution is not to care for drin but as following eating and washing down my meat. and to old men their youth. gives them leave to please themselves. but. as iron is softened by fire. purposely hastened his end by drin ing pure wine. which a thousand accidents may do. for the same reason the Germans do the same. At least. when oppressed with age. Nevertheless. Anacharsis wondered that the Gree s dran in greater glasses toward the end of a meal than at the beginning. he says. I seldom taste the first glass well. that good deity who restores to younger men their gayety. whether according to her natural condition she ever can be.                               . dispatched also the philosopher Arcesilaus. I do not.opinion. withal. and to get drun till forty. And seeing that in old age we have our palate furred with phlegms or depraved by some other ill constitution. when. but not designed by him. behold! he goes mad with a love philter. toward the end. He. says that wine is able to supply the soul with temperance and the body with health. nor the night on which a man intends to get children. understand how a man can extend the pleasure of drin ing beyond thirst. 'Tis to much purpose that the great poet Lucretius eeps such a clatter with his philosophy." To what vanity does the good opinion we have of ourselves push us? The most regular and most perfect soul in the world has but too much to do to eep itself upright. drun enness being. 'Tis said that the philosopher Stilpo. please him: that men forbear excesses in the expeditions of war. it arrives at the throat. There is not one of a thousand that is right and settled so much as one minute in a whole life. all other pleasures in comparison sleep. provided they have a discreet chief to govern and eep them in order. who then begin the battle of drin . 'tis an old and pleasant question. in part borrowed from the Carthaginians. But. my stomach would not proceed so far. which was. moreover. these restrictions. things of great use. that every judge and magistrate abstain from it when about the administrations of his place or the consultations of the public affairs. as good and of great utility. and that they dare not attempt when sober. and. and forge in his imagination an appetite artificial and against nature. the sole true pleasures of human life. that being a time due to other occupations. nevertheless. I suppose. Plato forbids children wine till eighteen years of age. fit to inspire old men with mettle to divert themselves in dancing and music. the wine tastes better to us as the pores are cleaner washed and laid more open.

" when Anaxarchus." truly. "Sudores itaque. to teach man his mortality and our wea ness. When Sextius tells us. forasmuch as our li ing no more holds with what is above than with what is below it. atque cepi: omnesque aditus tuos interclusi ut ad me aspirare non possess. When we come to these Stoical sallies: "I had rather be mad than voluptuous. Oh. a man must confess that there is some frenzy. cheer up thy executioners." {BK2_7 ^paragraph 65} 'Tis sufficient for a man to curb and moderate his inclinations. 'tis not Anaxarchus. and groans with the cholic. ma e me bend. and I grow stronger. how holy soever. All actions exceeding the ordinary bounds are liable to sinister interpretation. Fortuna. videmus:" he must shut his eyes against the blow that threatens him. batter. was put into a stone mortar. that feign all things at pleasure. that at that time possesses those souls. it is enough done. or more nothing? Wisdom does not force our natural dispositions. thou faintest. 'tis but his sheath that you pound and bray so." when Epicurus ta es upon him to play                           . classique immittit habenas." {BK2_7 ^paragraph 60} The poets. at least with hoarse and bro en voice: "Humani a se nihil alienum putet. by command of Nicocreon the tyrant of Cyprus. dare not acquit their greatest heroes of tears: "Sic fatur lacrymans. ex animi terrore. Let us leave that other sect. Denique concidere. that excellent and perfect judge of human actions. sonere aures. but when even in that sect. and crying out with a constant and assured voice: "Tyrant. pitiful coward. ceases not to say. where is the pain. succidere artus. Even our great Plutarch. ma e me complain. that sets up an express profession of scornful superiority. brea . fall to and eat. flesh them anew. see. if not with desperate outcry. I am still at ease. Maneien mallon e estheien." when we hear the child in Josephus torn piece-meal with pincers." a saying of Antisthenes.more miserable. not to be forced by our reason and the stoic virtue. "he had rather be fettered with affliction than pleasure. fall to wor with the other. see they faint. begins to doubt whether virtue could proceed so far. et infringi linguam. thou losest thy labor. when be sees Brutus and Torquatus ill their children. et pallorem exsistere toto {BK2_7 ^paragraph 55} Corpore. defying Antiochus. arm them. spur them up. and laid upon with mauls of iron. where are the torments with which thou didst so threaten me? Is this all thou canst do? My constancy torments thee more than thy cruelty does me. we hear these rhodomontades of Metrodorus: "Occupavi te. "Stri e. Caligare oculos. he must tremble upon the margin of a precipice." when we hear our martyrs cry out to the tyrant in the middle of the flame: "This side is roasted enough. some fury. nature having reserved these light mar s of her authority. vocemque aboriri. and to question whether these persons had not rather been stimulated by some other passion. encourage thy guards. he turns pale with fear. reputed the most quiet and gentle. for totally to suppress them is not in him to do. li e a child. red with shame. and can do no more. ma e me yield if thou canst.

ta ing the bridle in her teeth. as. in war the heat of battle impels generous soldiers to perform things of so infinite danger. We are all hollow and empty.with his gout. and now not where again to find the trac through which they performed so fine a career. how commendable soever. being indigent and necessitous within. OF GLORY THERE is the name and the thing. et in terra pax hominibus. or lifted from her place by some celestial rapture. Thus is it that to God alone glory and honor appertain. as it also fares with the poets. cannot augment or add anything to Himself within. and for which she is to herself responsible. Plato argues thus. pecora inter inertia. 'tis necessary she must leave it. as disdaining to contend with them. madness. and having continual need of amelioration. for. And as Plato says. and such li e essential qualities: exterior ornaments should be loo ed after when we have made provision for necessary things. that the faculty of the prophesying is so far above us. As we have it in our ordinary prayers. aut fulvum descendere monte leonem. and he has reason to call all transports. raise herself up." We are in want of beauty. as afterward. which is the part out of Him that is nearest to us. which also is in them called fury and rapture. votis Optat aprum. "Spumantemque dari. refusing health and ease. and. that we must be out of ourselves when we meddle with it. but I am not much versed in it. and more worthy of him. who are often rapt with admiration of their own writings. which is carried on with measure and proportion. the name is no part of the thing. and our prudence must either be obstructed by sleep or sic ness. wisdom. recollecting them they themselves are the first to wonder at. that surpass our own judgment and understanding. and. nor of the substance.                         . but His name may be augmented and increased by the blessing and praise we attribute to His exterior wor s: which praise seeing we cannot incorporate it in Him. and outside it. virtue. more violent. forasmuch as He can have no accession of good. 'tis to that we ought to employ all our endeavor. the name is a voice which denotes and signifies the thing. "Gloria in excelsis Deo. 'tis a foreign piece joined to the thing. health. forasmuch as wisdom is a regular government of the soul. we attribute to His name. and despising the lesser pains. {BK2_8 VIII. defies all torments." {BK2_7 ^paragraph 70} who but must conclude that these are wild sallies pushed on by a courage that has bro en loose from its place? Our soul cannot from her own seat reach so high. 'tis not with wind and voice that we are to fill ourselves. we want a more solid substance to repair us: a man starving with hunger would be very simple to see rather to provide himself with a gay garment than with a good meal: we are to loo after that whereof we have most need. Divinity treats amply and more pertinently of this subject. he covets and calls out for others sharper. 'tis no purpose for a sober-minded man to noc at the door of poesy: so Aristotle says that no excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of madness. our essence being imperfect. God. who is all fullness in Himself and the height of all perfection. and there is nothing so remote from reason as that we should go in quest of it for ourselves. transport her man so far that he shall afterward himself be astonished at what he has done.

which is the cause that what we believe we do not believe." These philosophers said. and so advises Idomeneus not in any sort to regulate his actions by the common reputation or opinion. otres-louable Ulysse. deca. and cannot disengage ourselves from what we condemn. but it was recompensed with the pleasure the remembrance of my inventions and doctrines brought to my soul. It was also one of the principal doctrines of Epicurus. I now not how. nor panderism so apt and so usually made use of to corrupt the chastity of women as to wheedle and entertain them with their own praises. but we are. And. ta e upon thee the protection of Metrodorus' children. has some reference to the reputation he hoped for thence after his death. but at the same time. and the li e. they are grand. also necessarily presupposes a contempt of glory. He that bids us conceal ourselves. nor anything whereby wic ed men more easily obtain credit and favor with them. and renders us less subject and exposed to insult and offense from others. which is the world's approbation of those actions we produce in public.Chrysippus and Diogenes were the earliest and firmest advocates of the contempt of glory. in my opinion. for which it may justly be desired: it acquires us good will. Let us see the last and dying words of Epicurus. Here is a letter that he dictated a little before his last gasp: {BK2_8 ^paragraph 15} "EPICURUS to HERMACHUS. that all the glory of the world was not worth an understanding man's holding out his finger to obtain it: {BK2_8 ^paragraph 10} "Gloria quantalibet quid erit. experience ma es us sensible of many very hurtful treasons in it. would much less have us honored and glorified. is the manner of his will in which he gives order that Amynomachus and Timocrates. Those discourses are. and who will not have us nown to others. that forbids men to encumber themselves with public negotiations and offices. and maintained that among all pleasures. and worthy of such a philosopher. than that which proceeds from the approbation of others. I write this. "While I was passing over the happy and last day of my life. his heirs should. Et le plus grand honneur dont la Grece fleurisse. as the affection thou hast ever from thy infancy borne toward me and philosophy requires. double in ourselves. and yet they carry some touches of the recommendation of his name and of that humor he had decried by his precepts. there was none more dangerous nor more to be avoided. defray               . except so as to avoid the other accidental inconveniences that the contempt of men might bring upon him. And that which ma es me interpret that the pleasure he says he had in his soul concerning his inventions. in truth. conceal thy life. every January. The first charm the Syrens made use of to allure Ulysses is of this nature: {BK2_8 ^paragraph 5} "Deca vers nous. Now. si gloria tantum est?" I say for it alone." This is the letter. for it often brings several commodities along with it. There is nothing that so poisons princes as flattery. and to have no other concern but for ourselves. greeting. very true and rational. afflicted with such pain in my bladder and bowels that nothing can be greater. for this precept of his sect.

that I am vexed it could ever enter into the understanding of a man that was honored with the name of philosopher. who should assemble in honor of the memory of him and of Metrodorus." says Carneades. but only slyly and with circumspection to do ill? "If thou nowest. Is there no more in it. id est (ut ego arbitror) mentem suam. and maintained that glory was to be desired for itself. thou dost ill if thou dost not give him caution of his danger. not only not against law. I thin he could willingly have fallen into the excess that others did. having no nowledge nor enjoyment of them. as I should thin it an execrable baseness had we done otherwise. men need not be virtuous but in public. and the cognizance of the laws: "Meminerint Deum se habere testem. in faithfully restoring the treasure that C. and separate it from fortune. who. and I thin it of good use in our days to recall the example of P. as too extreme vices. to how many sorts of wic edness shall we every day abandon ourselves? I do not find what Sextus Peduceus did. a thing that I had often done myself so commendable. but upon the account of the honor that always attends it: {BK2_8 ^paragraph 20} "Paulum sepultae distat inertiae Celata virtus:" which is an opinion so false. by whose death thou expectest an advantage. and avoids. regular and in order. Plotius had committed to his sole secrecy and trust. Carneades was head of the contrary opinion. as those commonly are that are most suitable to our inclinations. for what is more accidental than reputation? "Profecto fortuna in omni re dominatur: ea res cunctas ex libidine magis. that. if they could shroud themselves from accusations. that virtue itself was not to be coveted. This opinion has not failed to be the more universally followed. then. a person is going to sit down. by reason of their authority and power. and we should be no further concerned to eep the operations of the soul. whom Cicero accuses to have entered upon an inheritance contrary to his conscience. but even by the determination of the laws themselves. If this were true." {BK2_8 ^paragraph 25} Virtue is a very vain and frivolous thing. satisfied themselves with having no hand in the forgery. for he was so possessed with this passion. "of a serpent lur ing in a place where. if he had dared. which is the true seat of virtue. Hortensius. and refused not to ma e their advantage and to come in for a share: secure enough. we should there find pretty stories. his friends. Aristotle gives it the first place among external goods. witnesses. Sextilius Rufus. than as they are to arrive at the nowledge of others. the immoderate either see ing or evading it. and so much the more because the action is to be nown by none but thyself. Crassus and Q. without suspicion. quam ex vero. and M. if it derive its recommendation from glory. celebrat. if impunity pass with us for justice. having been called in by a stranger to share in the succession of a forged will. even as we embrace our posthumous issue for themselves." If we do not ta e up of ourselves the rule of well-doing.the expense of the celebration of his birthday as Hermachus should appoint: and also the expense that should be made the twentieth of every moon in entertaining the philosophers. and 'tis to no purpose that we endeavor to give it a station by itself." So to order it that actions may be nown and seen is                               . I believe that. that so he might secure his own part. if we had the boo s Cicero wrote upon this subject. obscuratque.

every man's conscience being a sufficient trumpet to him. "quasi non sit honestum. find it experimentally true. He who first li ened glory to a shadow did better than he was aware of. For seeing philosophy has not been able to find out any way to tranquillity that is good in common. non in gloria. And whoever will observe will. who brought as much courage to the wor as they. or at the head of an army. of whom we have no nowledge. according as necessity will have it. judicat. as upon a scaffold. in factis positum. "Vera et sapiens animi magnitudo. An infinite number of brave actions must be performed without witness and lost. To what do Caesar and Alexander owe the infinite grandeur of their renown but to fortune? How many men has she extinguished in the beginning of their progress. they are both of them things pre-eminently vain: glory also. a thousand have fallen in less dangers than the least of those he went through. than in places of greatest importance. "Gloria nostra est testimonium conscientiae nostrae. and to observe well if there be witnesses present who may carry news of their valor. li e a shadow. Ma fur sin da quel tempo si nascose. according to its own temerity. a man is often surprised between the hedge and the ditch. quod maxime naturam sequitur. and that in the wars of our own times there have more brave men been lost in occasions of little moment." He who is only a good man that men may now it. instead of illustrating his death willfully obscures his life. not according to Metrodorus. Who thin s his death unworthy of him if he do not fall in some signal occasion." what do they intend by that but to instruct them never to hazard themselves if they are not seen. and in the dispute about some little paltry fort. and the testimony he shall give of his companion's deportment will be evidence against himself. and sometimes in length infinitely exceeds it. he must dislodge four rascally mus eteers out of a barn. honestum illud. {BK2_8 ^paragraph 30} "Credo ch 'el resto di quel verno cose Facesse degne di tenerne conto." All the glory that I pretend to derive from my life is that I have lived in it quiet. in the sight of his general. A man is not always on the top of a breach. and where their valor might have been more honorably employed. he must run the hazard of his life against a henroost. and that he may be the better esteemed when 'tis nown: who will not do well but upon condition that his virtue may be nown to men: is one from whom much service is not to be expected. whereas a thousand occasions of well-doing present themselves which cannot be ta en notice of? How many brave individual actions are buried in the crowd of a battle? Whoever shall ta e upon him to watch another's behavior in such a confusion is not very busy himself. suffering in the meantime many very just occasions of hazarding himself to slip out of his hands. 'tis chance that helps us to glory.purely the wor of fortune. that occasions of the least luster are ever the most dangerous. in quiet. but according to myself. Che non e colpa mia s' or 'non le conto:                               . let every one see it in particular. goes sometimes before the body. and often very much outstrip it. I believe. he must pric out single from his party. or Aristippus. They who instruct gentlemen only to employ their valor for the obtaining of honor. and every just one is illustrious enough. and alone ma e some attempts. I have often seen her go before merit. if their adverse hap had not cut them off in the first sally of their arms? Among so many and so great dangers I do not remember I have anywhere read that Caesar was ever wounded. or Arcesilaus. quod nobilitatum non sit. before one turns to account.

thou mayest destroy me. follow it as having experimentally found that. 'tis a mar that can never be aimed at or hit: "Nil tam inoestimabile est. if it will. let us follow constantly after reason. we have no reason sooner to expect it by any other way than that. quos singulos contemnas. A dozen men must be called out of a whole nation to judge about an acre of land. injustice. than honor and glory. the most difficult and most important matter that is. friends. in a great tempest: "Oh God. "non emolumento aliquo. which are no other than a favorable judgment given of us. however. she leads us on to the hazards of war. and as it wholly depends upon fortune. or even virtuous thoughts. tamen non esse non turpe." This profit is of much greater advantage. Is it reasonable that the life of a wise man should depend upon the judgment of fools? "An quidquom stultius. A man must be valiant for himself." Demetrius pleasantly said of the voice of the people. {BK2_8 ^paragraph 35} Piu ch' a narrale poi. and fortunes.the satisfaction that a well-disposed conscience receives in itself in doing well. and inconstancy. si quando turpe non sit. Se non quando ebbe i testimoni appresso. in this windy confusion of the noise of vulgar reports and opinions that drive us on. the mother of ignorance. but for ourselves within. Let us not propose to ourselves so floating and wavering an end. there she defends us from the fear of death. quam animi multitudinis. aut ponit secures Arbitrio popularis aurae. repulsae nescia sordidae Intaminatis fulget honoribus: Nec sumit. no way worth anything can be chosen. quum id a multitudine laudatur. will have enough to do and never have done. ambiguous. sempre era pronto. thou mayest save me if thou wilt. and upon account of the advantage it is to him to have his courage seated in a firm and secure place against the assaults of fortune: {BK2_8 ^paragraph 40} "Virtus. whom no one doubted to be       . how private soever. Ne mai fu alcuno de' suoi fatti espresso. I will steer my rudder true. mongrel. that he made no more account of that which came from above than of that which came from below. but. and expect the recompense that never fails brave and worthy actions. eos aliquid putare. of shame itself." A man must go to the war upon the account of duty. however. where no eyes can pierce but our own." No art. of pain. we refer to the voice and determination of the rabble. and more worthy to be coveted and hoped for." The mariner of old said thus to Neptune. no activity of wit. let the public approbation follow us there. Cicero says more: "Ego hoc judico. 'tis commonly the most happy and of greatest utility: "Dedit hoc providentia hominicus munus. could conduct our steps so as to follow so wandering and so irregular a guide. I have seen in my time a thousand men supple. ut honesta magis juvarent. I should. esse universos?" He that ma es it his business to please them.Perche Orlando a far l 'opre virtuose. Even though I would not follow the right way because it is right. and if thou wilt. quam. sed ipsius honestatis decore. there she arms us against the loss of our children. and when opportunity presents itself. and the judgment of our inclinations and actions. at the end of the rec oning." {BK2_8 ^paragraph 45} It is not for outward show that the soul is to play its part.

neque enim mihi cornea fibra est: {BK2_8 ^paragraph Sed recti finemque. we 50}           55} 60} 65} . and would repent being placed in so honorable a post. though the heart beats within. Strangers see nothing but events and outward appearances. 'Tis with good reason that men decry the hypocrisy that is in war. do before him? {BK2_8 ^paragraph "Non si quid turbida Roma Elevet. and not by borrowing. when they have trembling and terror within. accedas. Euge tuum. {BK2_8 ^paragraph "Falsus honor juvat. the license of judgments is a great disturbance to great affairs! forasmuch as every one has not the firmness of Fabius against common. adverse. if turned inward toward the palm of the hand. as what I am in my own. and injurious tongues. and whoever had the use of the Platonic ring. In these. who rather suffered his authority to be dissected by the vain fancies of men. they do not see my heart. There is I now not what natural sweetness in hearing one's self commended.more worldy wise than I. going on the glorious expedition of Macedonia. extremumque esse recuso. than to do less well in his charge with a favorable reputation and the popular applause. destroy themselves. are marvelously uncertain and doubtful. above all things charged the people of Rome not to spea of his actions during his absence. what does he in that more than fifty poor pioneers who open to him the way and cover it with their own bodies for fivepence a day pay. et belle. finding ourselves in an inevitable necessity of doing something. how many soldier's boys are companions of our glory? he who stands firm in an open trench. but we are a great deal too fond of it: "Laudari haud metuam. and to counterfeit the brave when he has no more heart than a chic en? There are so many ways to avoid hazarding a man's own person." {BK2_8 ^paragraph Paulus Aemilius. a great many would very often hide themselves when they ought most to appear. we can ma e shift for that time to conceal our apprehensions by setting a good face on the business." The dispersing and scattering our names into many mouths. that we have deceived the world a thousand times before we come to be engaged in a real danger: and even then. which renders those invisible that wear it. et mendax infamia terret Quem. nisi mendosum et mendacem?" Thus we see how all the judgments that are founded upon external appearances." I care not so much what I am in the opinion of others. Oh. for what is more easy to an old soldier than to shift in a time of danger. examenque improbum in illa Castiges trutina: nec te quaesiveris extra. they see but my countenance. and that there is no so certain testimony as every one is to himself. I would be rich of myself. when necessity must ma e them bold. where I have saved myself: "Risi successu posse carere dolos. everybody can set a good face on the matter.

indeed. my ancestors have formerly been surnamed Eyquem. Trogus Pompeius says of Herostratus. et e medio fortunae ductus acervo. Nascuntur violae:" {BK2_8 ^paragraph 75} but of this I have spo en elsewhere. be it after what manner it will. whose surname is Montaigne. and so. It should seem that to be nown. it must be some very eminent greatness. and. every one may ta e it that will. As to what remains. besides. because we there hazard all. but of a great captain. hold that I am not. be it what it will. absolutely lose the use of those real advantages that sometimes accidentally follow it. and one in Xaintonge. to consider it na ed and simply in itself. and Titus Livius of Manlius Capitolinus. or some consequence of great importance that fortune has added to it. another in Brittany. withal. that we cannot expect any particular renown from it: "Casus multis hic cognitus. not a hundred have come to our nowledge. but in myself. and so many of them are every day seen. than how they spea : and it is enough for us that our names are often mentioned. I may honor a porter in my own stead. that they were more ambitious of a great reputation than of a good one. fortunataque favilla. and there must of necessity be so many of the same ind to produce any notable effect. ac jam Tritus. in the first place. something in every one of us. and that this increase turn to their advantage. of two that I have. indeed. and when I shall be dead. perhaps. The memory. for to expect that my name should be advanced by it. what can it distinguish when I am no more? Can it point out and favor inanity? {BK2_8 ^paragraph 70} "Nunc levior cippus non imprimit ossa. is. neither shall it have any whereby to ta e hold of or to cleave to me. there are two families at Paris and Montpellier. peradventure. As to my other name. which is all that can be excusable in this design. we are more solicitous that men spea of us. in a great battle where ten thousand men are maimed or illed. but for the world's concern. not of a harquebuser only.call ma ing them more great. But the excess of this disease proceeds so far that many covet to have a name. for to ill a man. The transposition of one syllable only would suffice so to ravel our affairs that I shall share in their glory. and of that other life of mine which lies in the nowledge of my friends. one is common to all my race. or ten: to expose a man's self bravely to the utmost peril of death. a name wherein a family well nown in England is at this day concerned. moreover. and shall. I shall be still and much less sensible of it. I shall have no more handle whereby to ta e hold of reputation. and they. or two. we will have them there well received. I now very well that I am sensible of no fruit nor enjoyment from it but by the vanity of a fantastic opinion. there are not fifteen who are ta en notice of. This is very common. I have no name that is enough my own. Nunc non e tumulo. Laudat posteritas. for my part. I. nunc non e manibus illis. shall parta e of my shame: and." Of so many thousands of valiant men who have died within these fifteen hundred years in France with their swords in their hands. is in some sort to have a man's life and its duration in others' eeping. And. though I had a particular distinction by myself. De La Montaigne. they are things so ordinary. to others also. that signalizes a private action. not of the                                       .

as Caesar did: ten thousand brave fellows and many great captains lost their lives valiantly in his service. ipsum officium est. that brave acts should find witnesses that could give them life and memory. it be remembered in gross that in our times there were civil wars in France. three months or three years after they have been noc ed on the head. he must have won two-and-fifty set battles." It will be much if a hundred years hence. Men do not write histories things of so little moment: a man must have been general in the conquest of an empire or a ingdom. Do we expect that at every mus et shot we receive." Even those we see behave themselves the best. and especially to see it in the vanity of human judgments. with so many writers and witnesses. stir not from their place. and 'tis permissible to doubt whether those we have be not the worst. and at every hazard we run. and be as much as possible nursed up and cherished among us. a hundred registers may enrol them whose commentaries will not last above three days. to endeavor to raise himself a name by his wor s. once so terrible and feared." It were. peradventure. are no more spo en of than if they had never been. We have not the thousandth part of ancient writings. if princes are touched to see the world bless the memory of Trajan. whose names lasted no longer than their wives and children lived: "Quos fama obscura recondit. and so many rare and noble exploits. extinguished in their own presence? And for three years of this fantastic and imaginary life we must go and throw away our true and essential life. according to her favor. 'tis fortune that gives them a shorter or longer life. Is it not strange that even of the Gree s and Romans. How many worthy men have we nown to survive their own reputation. and abominate that of Nero. so freely cursed and reviled by every schoolboy. excusable in a painter or other artisan. and with due proportion. If I had un nown events in my possession. not having seen the rest. if the people are thereby stirred up to virtue. and will never come to the sight of any one. will find that there are very few actions and very few persons of our times who can there pretend any right. The Lacedaemonians. and vanish without duration. {BK2_8 ^paragraph 85} If this false opinion. entering into battle. Whoever will justly consider. in all sorts of examples. the fortunes of above half of the world. and engage ourselves in a perpetual death! The sages propose to themselves a nobler and more just end in so important an enterprise: "Recte facti. sacrificed to the Muses. but the actions of virtue are too noble in themselves to see any other reward than from their own value. besides.commanders only. there must be a register ready to record it? and. and                                   . so few are arrived at our nowledge? {BK2_8 ^paragraph 80} "Ad nos vix tenuis famae perlabitur aura. of what ind of men and of what sort of actions the glory sustains itself in the records of history. who have seen and suffered the honor and glory most justly acquired in their youth. and always the wea er in number. or in a rhetorician or a grammarian. is buried and gone. but of battles and victories. be of such use to the public as to eep men in their duty. loo ing upon it as a divine and no common favor. fecisse merces est: officii fructus. for want of a record. let it by all means increase. I should thin with great ease to out-do those that are recorded. nevertheless. if it moves them to see the name of that great beast. to the end that their actions might be well and worthily written.

under the title of the patronage of this goddess. fed them with this foppery. bending his whole endeavor to ma e his citizens virtuous. "Ut enim consuetudo loquitur. and there is no government that has not some mixture either of ceremonial vanity or of false opinion. Neither would I advise them to give this excuse for payment of their denial: for I presuppose that their intentions. forasmuch as nothing thereof appears without. id solum dicitur honestum. This person and his tutor are both marvelous and bold artificers everywhere to add divine operations and revelations where human force is wanting. went into another body more happy. animaeque capaces Mortis. cum explicare argumenti exitum non possunt:" and. "Ut tragici poetae confugiunt ad deum. as well by word as opinion. 'Tis for this that most of them have their originals and beginnings fabulous. that truly. legislator of the Candiots. 'tis this that has given credit to bastard religions. besides. And the authority that Numa gave to his laws. the others falsely. for this reason it was that Timon. but this subject would require a treatise by itself. Minos. illa facit:" The offense. legislator of the Bactrians and Persians. and enriched with supernatural mysteries. by a certain divine inspiration. gave to his under the name of the god Oromazis. to possess their men with a better opinion of them. cannot pay themselves well enough with current money. as the Sire de Joinville reports. quia non liceat. Zoroaster. railing at him called him the great forger of miracles. under that of Vesta. and Draco and Solon. under that of Saturn." their duty is the mar . And every government has a god at the head of it.Plato. also advises them not to despise the good repute and esteem of the people. Charandas. and for this. legislator of the Lacedaemonians under that of Apollo. non sacit. both toward God and in the conscience. their desire. legislator of the Chalcidians. that the nymph Egeria. quod est populari fama gloriosum. et ignavum est rediturae parcere vitae. {BK2_8 ^paragraph 90} To add one word more to my former discourse. brought them all their counsels from the gods. 'Tis a way that has been practiced by all the legislators. that Numa and Sertorius. which are things wherein their honor is not at all concerned. legislator of the Egyptians. the other that his white hind. can rightly distinguish the virtuous from the wic ed. under that of Jupiter: Lycurgus. however erroneous. more beautiful. I would advise the ladies no longer to call that honor which is but their duty. Trismegistus. which Moses set over the Jews at their departure out of Egypt. Seeing that men by their insufficiency. legislators of the Athenians. under that of Mercury. and more robust than the former. Xamolxis. one. they are actions so private           . would be as great to desire as to do it: and. among other things. The religion of the Bedouins. enjoined a belief that the soul of him among them who died for his prince. under that of Minerva. Every nation has many such examples of its own. and will. that serves for a curb to eep the people in their duty. their honor but the outward rind." This is a very comfortable belief. which means they much more willingly ventured their lives: "In ferrum mens prona viris. legislator of the Scythians. and says it falls out. let the counterfeit be super-added. peradventure. that even the wic ed themselves ofttimes. and caused them to be countenanced by men of understanding. are much better regulated than the effects: "Quae.

{BK2_9 ^paragraph 5} "Ille velut fidis arcana sodalibus olim Credebat libris. than to hurt her conscience. 'tis all the reason in the world he should discern in himself. and we obey it. then. li e the passion of love. the judgment ought in all things to maintain its rights. but they whom she has only employed in the crowd. as would be easily enough ept from the nowledge of others. reason forbids us to do things unlawful and ill. for itself. aut obtrectationi fuit. and we leave the substance of things. Votiva pateat veluti descripta tabella {BK2_9 ^paragraph 10} Vita senis. and the affection they bear to chastity. that a man should not now himself aright." I remember. Every woman of honor will much rather choose to lose her honor. We are nothing but ceremony. consider the thing which they love other and more perfect than it is. which is the having too good an opinion of our own worth. that made Alexander carry his head on one side. I will say this. and nobody obeys it. ut omnis. that it is not unreasonable to suppose that we have qualities and inclinations so much our own. and ma es those who are caught by it. with a depraved and corrupt judgment. are to be excused if they ta e the boldness to spea of themselves to such as are interested to now them. I find myself here fettered by the laws of ceremony. we dare not call our members by their right names. if it be Caesar. we hold by the branches. and so incorporate in us. for fear of failing on this side. let him boldly thin himself the greatest captain in the world. for it neither permits a man to spea well of himself. and there portrayed himself such as he found himself to be. ceremony forbids us to express by words things that are lawful and natural. "Nec id Rutilio et Scauro citra fidem. as well as in others. neque si bene: quo fit. and of such natural inclinations the body will retain a certain bent. They whom fortune (call it good or ill) has made to pass their lives in some eminent degree. nor ill. if they had not another respect to their duty. by the example of Lucilius. neque si male cesserat. wherein the honor consists. and caused Alcibiades to lisp. Julius Caesar scratched his head with one finger. It was an affectation conformable with his beauty. yet are not afraid to employ them in all sorts of debauchery. may by their public actions manifest what they are. or thin himself less than he is. OF PRESUMPTION THERE is another sort of glory. ceremony carries us away. that seemed to relish of pride and arrogance. I would not. 'Tis an inconsiderate affection with which we flatter ourselves. and that lends beauties and graces to the object. by the way. which is the fashion of a                                 . we have taught the ladies to blush when they hear that but named which they are not at all afraid to do. what truth sets before him. usquam Decurrens alio. that from my infancy there was observed in me I now not what ind of carriage and behavior. and quit the trun and the body. without our nowledge or consent. and of whom nobody will say a word unless they spea themselves." he always committed to paper his actions and thoughts. that we have not the means to feel and recognize them. {BK2_9 IX. and that represents us to ourselves other than we truly are.and secret of themselves. we will leave it there for this time. nevertheless.

and none of mine. There are other artificial ones which I meddle not with. forasmuch as I design everything by chance and in fear. insinuate themselves into my esteem. planting his body in a rigid immovable posture. let us not forget that haughty one of the Emperor Constantius. between two equal merits should always be swayed against my own. when it most lays open our irresolution. This glory consists of two parts. not so much that the jealousy of my advancement and bettering troubles my judgment. it loses its effect. I am struc by the assurance that every one has of himself: whereas. and most push us to naught. I attribute it more to my fortune than industry. I must here confess what I thin of the matter. not daring so much as to spit. a sign of a man given to scoffing. as doubtful of my own force as I am of another's. As the prerogrative of the authority ma es husbands loo upon their own wives with a vicious disdain. unless they be in my own service. Besides that I am very ignorant in my own affairs. as that of itself possession begets a contempt of what it holds and rules. and hinders me from satisfying myself. as salutations and congees. and overvalue things. this humor spreads very far. because they are foreign. I prize above my own. that I lessen the just value of things that I possess. I have this. wea ness. methin s these considerations ought. methin s. Among irregular deportment. because they are not mine. that of all the opinions antiquity has held of men in gross. the one in setting too great a value upon ourselves. without suffering it to yield to the motion of his coach. the reputation of being humble and courteous. one may be humble out of pride. horse. such motions as these may imperceptibly happen in us. and I am sensible that Latin allures me by the favor of its dignity to value it above its due. and the common sort of people: the domestic government. Foreign governments. both as it is unjust. philosophy has never so fair a game to play as when it falls upon our vanity and presumption. especially in summer. and bestow that courtesy where it is more due. as I remember. not so much as to loo upon those who saluted him on one side.man full of troublesome thoughts. and many fathers their children. house. was wont to puc er up his nose. and am only instructed therein after the effect. Whence it comes to pass that if I happen to do anything commendable. though no better than my own. in the first place. to be of some force. but as to the motions of the soul. that they would be more sparing of that ceremony. if it be without respect of persons.                             . I should ma e it my request to some princes whom I now. and whether I had really any occult propension to this vice. of my neighbor. in general. as it does with children. so I. by which men acquire. without bending or turning on either side. and the other in setting too little a value upon others. there is scarcely anything that I am sure I now. also. I now not whether the gestures that were observed in me were this first quality. I feel myself importuned by an error of the soul that displeases me. I loo upon the too good opinion that man has of himself to be the nursing mother of all the most false opinions. or that I dare be responsible to myself that I can do: I have not my means of doing anything in condition and ready. and never am so saluted but that I pay it again from persons of what quality soever. and I cannot be responsible for the motions of the body. absent. and Cicero. blow his nose. or wipe his face before people. and still more as it is troublesome. I am prodigal enough of my hat. as it might well be. As to the one. I most willingly embrace and adhere to those that most contemn and undervalue us. I attempt to correct it. for being so indiscreetly and indifferently conferred on all. but I cannot root it out: and this is. for the most part unjustly. it is thrown away to no purpose. and ignorance. who always in public held his head upright and stiff. and languages. manners.

and am not able to endure myself. guilty of the meanest and most popular defects. The curiosity of nowing things has been given to man for a scourge. to forbid the entrance of so many rhymesters! {BK2_9 ^paragraph 20} "Verum Nihil securius est malo poeta. I have nothing of my own that satisfies my judgment. seeing these people could not resolve upon the nowledge of themselves and their own condition. and within them. non homines. as I most manifestly find in poetry: I love it infinitely. I play the child. which is continually before their eyes. and I do not value myself upon any other account than because I now my own value. and continuing to nettle their judgments. with chariots surpassing all the others in magnificence. even in the school of wisdom itself. For in truth. how can I believe them about the ebbing and flowing of the Nile. they first entered into disdain. one upon another. seeing they do not now how that moves. My sight is clear and regular enough. but when they afterwards came to poise the meanness of the composition. nay. But to return to what concerns myself." I would to God this sentence was written over the doors of all our printers. and am able to give a tolerable judgment of other men's wor s. but. at the Olympic games. A man may play the fool in everything else. so great diversity and uncertainty. it is apt to dazzle. non concessere columnae. finding so great a variety of judgments. which they themselves move. for any other to have a meaner opinion of me than I have of myself: I loo upon myself as one of the common sort. but not in poetry. are worse to me than a tooth-drawer that comes to draw my teeth. especially in things that concern myself.both public and private. but not disowning or excusing them. for in my study. so profound a labyrinth of difficulties. When his verses came to be recited. and has no body that my judgment can discern. at wor ing. I ever repudiate myself. and ran to pull down and tear to pieces all his pavilions: and. with tent and pavilions royally gilt and hung with tapestry. in good earnest. saving in this. the subject of which is man. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 15} "Mediocribus esse poetis Non dii. when I apply myself to it. and feel myself float and waver by reason of my wea ness. he sent also poets and musicians to present his verses. you may judge. and the approbation of others ma es me not thin the better of myself. with which I am satisfied. there is no part of me. the excellence of the delivery at first attracted the attention of the people. who see so far into the heavens. and that the ship which brought bac his people failed of ma ing Sicily. says the holy Scripture. and was by the                               . I am sprin led. nor how to give us a description of the springs they themselves govern and ma e use of. but not dyed. be it what it will. Those people who ride astride upon the epicycle of Mercury. that his chariots neither performed anything to purpose in the race. If there be any vanity in the case. presently proceeded to fury. but. 'tis superficially infused into me by the treachery of my complexion." Why have not we such people? Dionysius the father valued himself upon nothing so much as his poetry. I thin it would be very difficult for any other man to have a meaner opinion of himself. that I have no better an opinion of myself. My judgment is tender and nice. as to the effects of the mind.

"Si quid enim placet. having caused his own play called the Leneians to be acted in emulation. but in comparison of other worse things. and that has luster of its own. but they astound me. qui feci. is not so really and in itself. and ravish me with admiration. not to incur the sense of this prediction. Hence I conclude that the productions of those great and rich souls of former times are very much beyond the utmost stretch of my imagination or my wish: their writings do not only satisfy and fill me. who do not affect a grave and ceremonious wisdom. and partly of the excessive joy he conceived at the success." which he interpreted of the Carthaginians. they certainly believed was through the anger of the gods. they disgust me: "Cum relego. Debentur lepidis omnia Gratiis. when he should have overcome those who were better than himself. 'tis to follow my own inclination. but he understood it ill. and even the mariners who escaped from the wrec seconded this opinion of the people: to which also the oracle that foretold his death seemed to subscribe. always contriving some new invention. I see it. for which reason I must have it forcible. quia plurima cerno." {BK2_9 ^paragraph 30} I have always an idea in my soul.tempest driven and wrec ed upon the coast of Tarentum. by so much the more obstinately. against whom the intelligent and the ignorant. abroad and at home. as they themselves were. which is an inform and irregular way of spea ing. which would rather have them grave and severe. and to ma e myself more sprightly. I judge of their beauty. incensed. I envy the happiness of those who can please and hug themselves in what they do." They abandon me throughout. scripsisse pudet. if I may call that a style. because a man extracts that pleasure from himself. to conciliate their favor. a               . and a sort of disturbed image which presents me as in a dream with a better form than that I have made use of. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 25} What I find tolerable of mine. at least. often declined the victory. which was. judice. all I write is rude. I now a poet. very full. as Plutarch says of some one. polish and beauty are wanting: I cannot set things off to any advantage. for 'tis an easy thing to be so pleased. who surpassed him in power. and even that idea is but of the meaner sort. my handling adds nothing to the matter. Me quoque. presently after which victory he died. and having war with them. digna lini. My wor s are so far from pleasing me. that as often as I review them. that by favor and injustice he obtained at Athens over the tragic poets. better than himself. especially if he be constant in his self-conceit. "that Dionysius should be near his end. Whatever I underta e. but I cannot catch it nor fit it to my purpose. I owe a sacrifice to the Graces. for the god indicated the time of the advantage. but not my style more wanton. but is always falling upon some new piece. as the world does. both heaven and earth exclaim that he has but very little notion of it. Si quid dulce hominum sensibus influit. that I see well enough received. and still persists in his opinion. if not to the utmost. and yet for all that he has never a whit the worse opinion of himself. If I pitch upon subjects that are popular and gay. against that paltry poem. yet so far at least as 'tis possible for me to aspire. as it only concerns him to maintain it.

but supporting it with graces which never fail them. but I li ewise now that the greatest masters. and though my inclination would rather prompt me to imitate Seneca's way of writing. Both in doing and spea ing I simply follow my own natural way. the robe. it falls out that I am better at spea ing than writing. and grow hot. and becomes flat. whence. the countenance. both in the pronunciation and otherwise. if not my judgment. of entertaining the first comers and eeping a whole company in breath. at all events my inclination. especially in those who lay about them bris ly. I am wise in stic ing to the conclusion. that were a disadvantage to their eloquence. nor do I                                               . a proceeding without definition. perplexed li e that Amafanius and Rabirius. yet I do. My French tongue is corrupted. Obscurus fio. 'tis rough. division. and regular style. Princes do not much affect solid discourses. Massalla complains in Tacitus of the straightness of some garments in his time. conclusion. Cicero is of opinion that in treatises of philosophy the exordium is the hardest part. The first and easiest reasons. The comportment. the place. Should I attempt to follow the other more moderate. nevertheless. and accommodating it to the humor and capacity of those with whom they have to do. and Xenophon and Plato are often seen to stoop to this low and popular manner of spea ing and treating of things. more esteem that of Plutarch. and though the short round periods of Sallust best suit with my humor. and that was not offensive to ears that were purely French. I now very well that most men eep themselves in this lower form from not conceiving things otherwise than by this outward bar . and irregular. and as such pleases. and the sharpest is that which is the most seldom touched. and am totally unprovided of that facility which I observe in many of my acquaintance. I am apt of everything to say the extremest that I now. by the barbarism of my country. but I very well perceive that I sometimes give myself too much rein. and that by endeavoring to avoid art and affectation I fall into the other inconvenience: "Brevis esse laboro. and of the fashion of the benches where the orators were to declaim. I now not how to employ: I am an ill orator to the common sort. yet I find Caesar much grander and harder to imitate. that the long or the short are not properties that either ta e away or give value to language. united. my language has nothing in it that is facile and polished. I never saw a man who was a native of any of the provinces on his side of the ingdom who had not a twang of his place of birth. There is at least as much perfection in elevating an empty as in supporting a weighty thing. Motion and action animate words. nor even tic le my readers: the best story in the world is spoiled by my handling. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 35} Further. and sometimes push them home. nor I to tell stories. which are commonly the best ta en. will set off some things that of themselves would appear no better than prating. And yet we are to now how to wind the string to all notes. the voice. free. if this be true. And yet it is not that I am so perfect in my Perigordin: for I can no more spea it than High Dutch. I cannot spea but in rough earnest. as I do. I can neither please nor delight. peradventure. A man must sometimes superficially handle things. I should never attain to it.popular jargon." {BK2_9 ^paragraph 40} Plato says. or ta ing up the ear of a prince with all sorts of discourse without wearying themselves: they never want matter by reason of the faculty and grace they have in ta ing hold of the first thing that starts up.

The sect of the Peripatetics. and pertinent as the French is graceful. 'tis li ely was the advantage of beauty: {BK2_9 ^paragraph 45} "Agros divisere atque dedere Pro facie cujusque. but carries withal a great deal of inconvenience along with it. for they now that the Divine justice embraces this society and juncture of body and soul. of Poitou. powerful. and therefore its structure and composition are of very just consideration. by which you may see how inconsiderable I am on that side. by discontinuance. Auvergne). one for the body and the other for the soul. has an eminent place there. and advise it. especially for those who are in office and command. cherish. is wanting. and to have lost sight of their subject. indeed. lost the use of spea ing it. in sum. wherein I formerly had a particular reputation. but to unite herself close to it. to embrace. rather than any other. as beauty is in a conspicuous stature: the Ethiopians and Indians. and greatness of soul is discovered in a great body. and that God has an eye to the whole man's ways. in not sufficiently applying themselves to the consideration of this mixture. and luxuriant. Little men. but uniform and concurring. We must command the soul not to withdraw and entertain itself apart. we must. and. which was given me for my mother tongue. says Aristotle. There is." Now I am of something lower than the middle stature. show themselves to be divided. brief. Xaintonge. even to the ma ing the body capable of eternal rewards. Limosin.                     . reunite and rejoin them. et viribus. to espouse and be a husband to it. neat. Marius did not willingly enlist any soldiers who were not six feet high. of writing it too. and to bring it bac and set it into the true way when it wanders. indeed. a defect that not only borders upon deformity. Angoumousin. govern. assist. and their guide. are pretty but not handsome. I have. But if I were to choose whether this medium must be rather below than above the common standard. The first distinction that ever was among men. The body has a great share in our being. and the first consideration that gave some pre-eminence over others. 'tis the first means of acquiring the favor and good li ing of one another. for the authority which a graceful presence and a majestic mien beget. As to the Latin. indeed. a poor. significant. They who go about to disunite and separate our two principal parts from one another are to blame. and no man is so barbarous and morose as not to perceive himself in some sort struc with its attraction. and in truth a more manly and military language than any other I am acquainted with. of all sects the most sociable. as sinewy. Beauty is a thing of great recommendation in the correspondence among men. and to reject all strangeness that should ma e him be pointed at. reason to desire a moderate stature in the gentlemen he is setting forth. not to despise and abandon the body (neither can she do it but by some apish counterfeit). and will that he receive entire chastisement or reward according to his demerits or merits. on the contrary. viresque vigebant. Christians have a particular instruction concerning this connection. Nam facies multum valuit. which they generally confess to be Nature. 'Tis a language (as the rest about me on every side. so that their effects may not appear to be diverse and contrary. which is Man. C. scurvy language. that I am mightily ta en with: blunt. I would not have it so in a soldier. attribute to wisdom this sole care equally to provide for the good of these two associate parts: and the other sects. drawling. above us toward the mountains a sort of Gascon spo en. with equal error. The courtier has. ingenaque.much care.

but full. I have scarce nown any man of his condition. nor the whiteness and sweetness of the eyes. and that you should only have the remainder of the compliment of the hat that is made to your barber or your secretary. moderately sanguine and hot. Where there is a contemptible stature. et pectora villis. neither the largeness and roundness of the forehead. has not himself rejected bodily recommendation. who arriving the first of all his company at an inn where he was expected." my health vigorous and sprightly. and saw him an unsightly fellow. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 55} "Unde rigent setis mihi crura. who continued to be so to an extreme old age. They had reason. strong and well nit. nor a body without any offensive scent. as it happened to poor Philopoemen. nor the just proportion of limbs. nor the thic ness of a well-set brown beard. employed him to go help her maids a little to draw water." said he. for it creates them." The other beauties belong to women. Such I was. will be but a half-being. nor the littleness of the ears and mouth. for he failed not to obey his landlady's command. together with temperance and fortitude. I every day escape and steal away from myself: "Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes:" Agility and address I never had. as ed him what he was doing there. had regard to the persons. ings and magistrates. "I am. the beauty of stature is the only beauty of men. arma tenens. "paying the penalty of my ugliness." And Plato. the hostess who new him not. "Speciosus forma prae filiis hominum. requires beauty in the conservators of his republic. for I do not now ma e any account of myself. in choosing their beauty and stature of their respect in those who follow see a leader of a brave and battalion. and ma e a fire against Philopoemen's coming: the gentlemen of his train arriving presently after."Ipse inter primos praestanti corpore Turnus Vertitur. his equal in all               says he. and yet am the son of a very active and sprightly father. can ma e a handsome man. of whom every circumstance is most carefully and with the greatest religion and reverence to be observed. now that I am engaged in the avenues of old age. I am." Our holy and heavenly ing. nor the moderate proportion of the nose. shining li e the hus of a chestnut. nor the just proportion of the head. nor curled hair. and rarely troubled with sic ness. my face is not puffed. nor the evenness and whiteness of the teeth. et in partem pejorem liquitur aetas:" {BK2_9 ^paragraph 60} what shall be from this time forward. being already past forty: "Minutatim vires et robur adultum Frangit. and is a terror to the enemy to goodly stature march at the head of a {BK2_9 ^paragraph 50}             . and no more me. It would vex you that a man should apply himself to you among your servants to inquire where monsieur is. as to the rest. nor a pleasing air of a face. and surprised to see him busy in this fine employment. even to a well advanced age. and my complexion between jovial and melancholic. et toto vertice supra est. nor a fresh complexion.

In fine.bodily exercises: as I have seldom met with any who have not excelled me. I could never arrive to more than an ordinary pitch. I sought for no more. and that. My hands are so clumsy that I cannot even write so as to read it myself. as according to the course of our other passions. In dancing. re. extremis usque priores. of custom. peradventure. Non tamen adversis aetatem ducimus Austris. for being born to such a fortune as I had reason to be contented with (a reason. nor carry a haw and fly her. if I am not allured with some pleasure. vaulting. I do not read much better than I write. I have wal ed as far as I would. only a full and firm vigor: I am patient enough of labor and pains. and at the pace that best pleased myself. my bodily qualities are very well suited to those of my soul. having hitherto never had either master or governor imposed upon me. and leaping. I am good for nothing: for I am of a humor that. loco. so that I had rather do what I have scribbled over again. fencing. they could never teach me anything. and also got no more: {BK2_9 ^paragraph 70} "Non agimur tumidis velis Aquilone secundo. the desire of riches is more sharpened by their use than by the need of them: and the virtue of moderation more rare than that of patience: and I never had anything to desire. for which I have a very unfit voice. nor lure a haw . or wrestling. in swimming. "Molliter austerum studio fallente laborem:" otherwise. and that I will purchase at the price of torment of mind and constraint: {BK2_9 ^paragraph 65} "Tanti mihi non sit opaci Omnis arena Tagi. and feel that I weary my auditors: otherwise. Extremi primorum. not a bad cler . ingenio. and has made me of no use to any one but myself. equally difficult in all sorts of conditions. life and health excepted. than ta e upon me the trouble to ma e it out. nor spea to a horse. to tumult and disquiet). to none at all. to ta e it right. I have a soul free and entirely its own. at which I was pretty good. and only so long as my own desire prompts me to it." I had only need of what was sufficient to content me: which nevertheless is a government of soul. but it is only when I go voluntary to wor . that is it that has rendered me unfit for the service of others. nor saddle a horse. that a thousand others of my acquaintance would have rather made use of for a plan upon which to pass over in search of higher fortune. except in running. nor could ever ma e a pen. but happily to enjoy the estate that God by His                       . there is nothing sprightly. or to play on any sort of instrument. we see more easily found in want than in abundance: forasmuch. and with as much intelligence as I required. Viribus. quodque in mare volvitur aurum. nor hunt the dogs. virtute. and accustomed to guide itself after its own fashion. I would as willingly lend a man my blood as my pains. nevertheless. there is nothing for which I will bite my nails. or have other guide than my own pure and free inclination. I cannot decently fold up a letter. specie. extremely given up to my own inclination both by nature and art. In music or singing. or carve at table worth a pin. tennis." Extremely idle. Nor was there any need of forcing my heavy and lazy disposition.

and put myself into the beaten trac how dirty or deep soever.bounty had put into my hands. li e a child. wholly leaving all to fortune "to ta e all things at the worst. but of deliberations. I do not so much consider how I shall escape it. I have never nown anything of trouble. The fear of the fall more fevers me than the fall itself. that I may be less sensible of my loss. I have no great art to evade. to deceive me with something li e a decent appearance." {BK2_9 ^paragraph 80} I love not to now what I have. "Haec nempe supersunt Quae dominum fallunt. For want of constancy enough to support the shoc of adverse accidents to which we are subject. and apply myself to them. even in things of lightest moment. so I love misfortunes that are purely so. I nourish as much as I can this in myself. Deliberation. I preferably avoid those. where affection and integrity are absent. committed to my trust by such as had a confidence in me." {BK2_9 ^paragraph 85} In events. what matter? Not being able to govern events. is very troublesome to me. escape from or force fortune. and have had little to do in anything but the management of my own affairs: or. than to set up its rest and to acquiesce in whatever shall happen after the die is thrown. The game is not worth the candle. I have still less patience to undergo the troublesome and painful care therein required." that is the only thing I aim at. I govern myself. in the conduct. Few passions brea my sleep. that are sloping and slippery. and exempt from any rigorous subjection. and there see my safety. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 75} Even my infancy was trained up after a gentle and free manner. The lowest wal is the safest. concealed from me. I entreat those who serve me. and the jealous man than the cuc old. All this has helped me to a complexion delicate and incapable of solicitude. should I be left dead upon the place. if they will not apply themselves to me. and who new my humor. as of how little importance it is. and to be agitated between hope and fear. In a danger. 'tis the seat of constancy. I put down what my negligence costs me in feeding and maintaining it. and by prudence to guide and incline things to my own bias. the least will do it. you have                               . it has been upon condition to do it at my own leisure and after my own method. that do not torment and teaze me with the uncertainty of their growing better. and I find my mind more put to it to undergo the various tumblings and tossings of doubt and consultation. who did not importune me. and a man ofttimes loses more by defending his vineyard than if he gave it up. but that at the first push plunge me directly into the worst that can be expected: "Dubia plus torquent mala. and the most uneasy condition for me is to be suspended on urgent occasions. The covetous man fares worse with his passion than the poor. quae prosunt furibus. whether I escape it or no. I carry myself li e a man. and to resolve to bear that worst with temper and patience. if I have. and of patience seriously to apply myself to the management of my affairs. and to which I apply my whole meditation. As in roads. for good horsemen will ma e shift to get service out of a rusty and bro en-winded jade. where I can fall no lower. even to that degree that I love to have my losses and the disorders wherein I am concerned. In the account of my expenses.

and I am of opinion. having spent his youth in good fellowship. by which he stopped the private chattering of moc ers. which is neighbor. "Good-morrow strumpet. that if a man have sufficient to maintain him in the condition wherein he was born and brought up. a man rarely arrives to these advancements but in first hazarding what he has of his own." "good-morrow. "Cui sit conditio dulcis sine pulvere palmae. being well advanced in years. alter tibi radat arenas:" and besides. because. than him with whom the honor of his family is entrusted. capiti committere pondus. and to sit still. that the French were li e mon eys that swarm up a tree from branch to branch. I have found a much shorter and more easy way. that it was not capable of any great matters. and to settle a quiet and composed way of living. To prevent them from paying him in his own coin he married a wife from a place where any one may have flesh for his money. and to have submitted myself to all the difficulties that accompany those who endeavor to bring themselves into credit in the beginning of their progress. and calling to mind the saying of the late Chancellor Olivier. and never stop till they come to the highest. a great tal er and a great jeerer." {BK2_9 ^paragraph 100} I should find the best qualities I have useless in this age. and blunted all the point from this reproach. necessity puts him upon shifting for himself: "Capienda rebus in malis praeceps via est:" {BK2_9 ^paragraph 95} and I rather excuse a younger brother for exposing what his friends have left him to the courtesy of fortune. 'tis there founded and wholly stands upon its own basis. calling to mind how much the subject of cuc oldry had given him occasion to tal and scoff at others.there need of no one but yourself. and there show their breech. I could never have done it: "Spem pretio non emo:" {BK2_9 ^paragraph 90} I apply myself to what I see and to what I have in my hand. is to be excused if he venture what he has. must have come and ta en me by the hand. or rather daughter to presumption. cuc old. quod nequeas. the                   . happen what will. fortune. Et pressum inflexo mox dare terga genu. to free myself from any such ambition. "Alter remus aquas. than with this design of his. "Turpe est." and there was not anything wherewith he more commonly and openly entertained those who came to see him. to advance me. 'tis a great folly to hazard that upon the uncertainty of augmenting it. for to trouble myself for an uncertain hope. by the advice of the good friends I had in my younger days." judging rightly enough of my own strength. some air of philosophy in it? He married. Has not this example of a gentleman very well nown. who cannot be necessitous but by his own fault. As to ambition. He to whom fortune has denied whereon to set his foot. and go not very far from the shore.

'tis by this our servants are trained up to treachery. if no other better qualities concurred. they fight duels. for so. We see merchants. it was ordinary and common to see a man moderate in his revenges. if sometimes a lie escape me. I do not now what advantage men pretend to by eternally                                       . and who is not afraid to lie when it signifies nothing to anybody. gentle in resenting injuries. I have an inward shame and a sharp remorse. you shall be reputed virtuous cheaply. I mortally hate it. human. scrupulosity and superstition. is not sufficiently true. they defend towns in our present wars. He who spea s truth because be is obliged so to do.facility of my manners would have been called wea ness and negligence. being brought up to spea what is not true. but not always all. renown. and artisans. and no other qualities can attract their good will li e those. and exiled. inconsiderate. neither double nor supple. Si reddat veterem cum tota aerugine follem. A generous heart ought not to belie its own thoughts. let him shine bright in humanity. a prince stifles his special recommendation. or the turns of the times: I would rather see all affairs go to wrec and ruin than falsify my faith to secure them. to judge and spea with all freedom. quam bonitas. to get himself into favor and esteem by those ways. Ill luc is good for something. in comparison of others. and especially in justice. for that were folly: but what a man says should be what he thin s. The first who shall ma e it his business. go chee by jowl with the best gentry in valor and military nowledge: they perform honorable actions. they ma e no conscience of a lie. and not to value the approbation or disli e of others in comparison of truth. all there is good. Apollonius said. nor accommodating his faith to the will of others. wherein. religious of his word. it was for slaves to lie." By this standard. country justices. Aristotle reputes it the office of magnanimity openly and professedly to love and hate. is an honest man and a man of honor: "Nunc. I had been great and rare. we must love it for itself. Quaeque coronata lustrari debeat agna:" {BK2_9 ^paragraph 105} and never was time or place wherein princes might propose to themselves more assured or greater rewards for virtue and justice. as being of the greatest utility to them: "Nil est tam populare. un nown. and of all vices find none that evidences so much baseness and meanness of spirit. just as I find myself now pigmy and vulgar by the standard of some past ages. and not to dare to show himself what he is. and hates the very thought of it. et Tuscis digna libellis. si depositum non inficiatur amicus. My soul naturally abominates lying. in this crowd. my liberty and freedom would have been reputed troublesome. and for freemen to spea truth: 'tis the chief and fundamental part of virtue. and because it serves him. temperance. loyalty. It is good to be born in a very depraved age. and rash. otherwise 'tis navery. being surprised by occasions that allow me no premeditation. mar s rare. which is now in so great credit. For as to this new virtue of feigning and dissimulation. 'Tis a cowardly and servile humor to hide and disguise a man's self under a visor. A man must not always tell all. or at least. Prodigiosa fides. he who in our days is but a parricide and a sacrilegious person. 'tis by no other means but by the sole good will of the people that he can do his business. truth. as sometimes it does. it will ma e itself seen within. both in public engagements and private quarrels. my faith and conscience. I am much deceived if he do not and by the best title outstrip his competitors: force and violence can do something.

is to give warning to all who have anything to do with them. for to answer a speech consisting of several heads I am not able.counterfeiting and dissembling. by this example of infidelity. and it may be also. nor. I had rather be troublesome and indiscreet. Soliman. sacrileges. and that I grow hot by the opposition of respect. for my part. as Tiberius did. that all they say is nothing but lying and deceit: "Quo quis versuitior et callidior est. Those of our time. and have preferred that to the care of his faith and conscience. always to spea as I thin . the good of his affairs only. rebellions. being informed that Mercurino de' Gratinare. and the inhabitants of Castro were detained prisoners. as some of our princes have done. that they would burn their shirts if they new their true intentions. I could not receive a commission by word of mouth. saying that having other great enterprises in hand in those parts. it may once or twice pass with men. throwing this prince out of all correspondence and negotiation. assurance enough to maintain it. if not. sent orders to have them set at liberty. without any consideration of others. would for the future bring on him a disrepute and distrust of infinite prejudice. speech and countenance toward great persons. using the same liberty. without a note                                 . that I bring with me from my own house: I am sensible how much it declines toward incivility and indiscretion: but. treasons. hoc invisior et suspectior. and to brag. they ma e more than one peace and enter into more than one treaty in their lives. as in all other ill acts. Now. Aristippus was wont to say. never to be believed when they spea the truth. I confess that there may be some mixture of pride and obstinacy in eeping myself so upright and open as I do. but this first gain has infinite mischievous consequences. and I cannot conceive what part such persons can have in conversation with men. a race not very solicitous of eeping their words or compacts. who has put on a resolution to be always another thing without than he is within. murders. where I ought least to be so. Memory is a faculty of wonderful use. which was a saying of the ancient Metellus of Macedon. Gain tempts to the first breach of faith. is the same to falsehood also. the disloyalty. than a flattterer and a dissembler. he must do it piecemeal. nor to feign a truth. and methin s I am a little too free. that I suffer myself to follow the propension of my own nature for want of art. after having surrendered the place. And therefore it is that I abandon myself to candor. for my part I have none at all. but to profess the concealing their thought. though it carried a show of present utility. seeing they produce nothing that is received as true: whoever is disloyal to truth. as being underta en for some ind of advantage. truly. of the Ottoman race. both by complexion and design leaving the event to fortune. when. What any one will propound to me. and without which the judgment can very hardly perform its office. besides that I am so bred. and that they who now not how to dissemble now not how to rule. contrary to the articles of their capitulation. and almost always presents itself. and so play the brave out of wea ness. detracta opinione probitatis:" it were a great simplicity in any one to lay any stress either on the countenance or word of a man. they often buy in the same mar et. who have considered in the establishment of the duty of a prince. that the principal benefit he had extracted from philosophy was that he spo e freely and openly to all. I have not a wit supple enough to evade a sudden question and to escape by some evasion. might have something to say to a prince whose affairs fortune had put into such a posture that he might forever establish them by only once brea ing his word: but it will not go so. in my infancy he made his army land at Otranto. nor memory enough to retain it so feigned.

will not fail to ta e over and over again the same number and measure of steps. that which I can otherwise naturally and easily do. Being once in a place where it is loo ed upon as the greatest discourtesy imaginable not to pledge those who drin to you. I often meditate what a ind of life theirs was. that it has a harsh sound. I should have enough left to support me with any                                           . which is the reason that I eep myself. of changing a word. he should also lose the reputation he had got of being a good mar sman. and that it begins or ends with such a letter. so stopped my throat that I could not swallow one drop. if anything comes into my head that I have a mind to loo at or to write there. I am infallibly lost. the more I sound it. I find also in several other parts. without this faculty. that I was to force myself contrary to my custom and inclination. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 110} And the same defect I find in my memory. and that instead of saving his life. I should otherwise have neither method nor assurance. This effect is most manifest in such as have the most vehement and powerful imagination. for this threatening and preparation. which is also said of Georgius Trapezuntius. being in fear that my memory would play me a slippery tric . incessantly varying the matter. but it is natural. is situated in a corner of my house. he will find that what he did by nature and accident. I fly command. in the place where he wal s. the more it is perplexed. I am reduced to the miserable necessity of getting by heart word for word.boo . I can tell. to save his life. but if he ma e it his business to measure and count them. he cannot so exactly do by design. if I enjoin them a necessary service at a certain hour. fearing lest the too great contention of his will should ma e him shoot wide. that there are three syllables. which have a more particular jurisdiction of their own. what I am to say. even to an inch. and if. I do not doubt but I should forget my own name. condemned to die. If I venture in spea ing to digress never so little from my subject. And besides. I am forced to call the men who serve me either by the names of their offices or their country. but there was sport enough. This tyrannical and compulsive appointment baffles them. obligation. My library. I cannot do it. in a wor of a man's own. For my own interest. I found myself gorged. it serves me best by chance. as some others have done. for names are very hard for me to remember. and constraint. the liberty and authority of altering the order. They offered an excellent archer. which is of the best sort of country libraries. 'tis confused. if it be long. Messala Corvinus was two years without any trace of memory. strictly close. they shrin up either through fear or spite. but that's all: and if I should live long. not at mine. But this way is no less difficult to me than the other. if I impose it upon myself by an express and strict injunction. sometimes refuse to obey me. I tried to play the good fellow. and after it once begins to stagger. lest I should forget it in but going across the court. if he would show some notable proof of his art. notwithstanding. And when I have a speech of consequence to ma e. and my thirst quenched by the quantity of drin that my imagination had swallowed. out of respect to the ladies who were there. The more I mistrust it the worse it is. indeed. in discourse. A man who thin s of something else. I must have three hours to learn three verses. and there is no one who does not in some measure feel it. and was deprived of drin ing so much as with my meat. for if I press it. though I had there all liberty allowed me. and fall into a trance. I am fain to commit it to the memory of some other. but he refused to try. I must solicit it negligently. ma es it harder to stic in the memory of the author. according to the custom of the country. it serves me at its own hour. Even the members of my body.

destroys all the other functions of the soul: "Plenus rimarum sum. and ready for all things. it apprehends well." Memory is the receptacle and case of science: and therefore mine being so treacherous. left me to                       . which I say to accuse my own. I fear that this privation. and what I give as well as what I receive. I help myself to lose what I have a particular care to loc safe up. sed omnis vitae usum. that I no less forget my own writings and compositions than the rest. and how important. for the time it retains it. and yet I have not borrowed them but from famous and nown authors. but nothing more. if not instructed. and to forget where I had hidden my purse. clear. hac atque illac perfluo." {BK2_9 ^paragraph 115} It has befallen me more than once to forget the watchword I had three hours before given or received. if I. and how it comes to pass that a man blind and asleep to everything else. is far from my doctrine) there is not a soul in the world so aw ward as mine. where there is a concurrence of authority with reason. had them not from rich and honorable hands. I have a slow and heavy wit. and such as a man cannot without shame fail to now. I do not study them. I immediately forget. My sight is perfect. where wit is required. the names of the arts. what. and of what they treat. would puzzle me to tell him. 'tis only what my judgment has made its advantage of. but am forced to have one to read to me. "Memoria certe non modo Philosophiam. and among husbandmen. and what nearest concerns the use of life. there is not the least idle subtlety that will not gravel me. so that. which occasions that I cannot read long. omnesque artes. Besides the defect of memory. no soul so buried in sloth and ignorance. shall be found sprightly. There is no so wretched and coarse a soul. open. and prying narrowly into it. I now. I am so excellent at forgetting. whatever Cicero is pleased to say. and if my memory lose what I have written as well as what I have read. I have had business and husbandry in my own hands ever since my predecessors. words. I never proposed to it any never so easy a riddle that it could find out. The younger Pliny can inform such as has not experimented it themselves. if absolute. at least capable of being so. I am very often quoted to myself and am not aware of it. and excellent in some one particular effect. the discourses and imaginations in which it has been instructed: the author. for example. and other circumstances. moreover. wherein some particular faculty is not seen to shine. I have a slow and perplexed apprehension.manner of ease. but is soon weary and heavy at wor . as chess. I turn over boo s. place. Whoever should inquire of me where I had the verses and examples that I have here huddled together. if I now little. but it will sally at one end or another. and discovers at a very great distance. I have others which very much contribute to my ignorance. the least cloud stops its progress. in general. and so ignorant of many common things. draughts. entire. which we have in our hands. for whether it be through infirmity or negligence (and to neglect that which lies at our feet. It is no great wonder if my boo run the same fortune that other boo s do. una maxime continet. but what it once apprehends. an impediment this is to those who addict themselves to study. I must give some examples. in games. and the li e. who were lords of the estate I now enjoy. we are to inquire of our masters: but the beautiful souls are they that are universal. I was born and bred up in the country. I understand no more than the common movements. What I retain I no longer recognize as another's. I cannot much complain. not contenting myself that they were rich.

and scarcely can distinguish between the cabbage and lettuce in my garden. provided it be such as I really am. that without anybody's needing to tell me. Ipse ego quam dixi: quid dentem dente juvabit {BK2_9 ^paragraph 125} Rodere? carne opus est. si satur esse velis. provided I am not deceived in them and now them to be such. that he would of Zeno and Cleanthes. either growing or in the barn. was presented with a portrait he had drawn of himself. that I seldom do it otherwise. much less the mechanic arts. if they please. In earnest. and very incommodious in the negotiations of the affairs of the world." I am not obliged to refrain from uttering absurdities. And. I should starve. 'Tis no great matter to add ridiculous actions to the temerity of my humor. lawful for every one to draw himself with a pen as he did with a crayon? I will not therefore omit this blemish. is so ordinary with me. nor rec on my counters. Quantum noleurit ferre rogatus Atlas. I now not which to choose: {BK2_9 ^paragraph 130} "Ne si. a very great defect.. since I cannot ordinarily help supplying it with those that are vicious. for a memorial of Rene. if it be not too apparent. and to trip nowingly. Et possis ipsum tu deridere Latinum. nor the difference between one grain and another. most of our current money I do not now. why is it not. in doubtful enterprises. sis denique nasus. that I was trapped in my ignorance of the use of leaven to ma e bread. merchandise. By these features of my confession men may imagine others to my prejudice: but whatever I deliver myself to be. when King Francis II. They conjectured of old at Athens. though very unfit to be published. I was present one day at Barleduc. but not my progress. accuse my project. they would draw a quite contrary conclusion from me. nos haec novimus esse nihil. neither will I ma e any excuse for committing to paper such mean and frivolous things as these. nor the most ordinary elements of agriculture. which the very children now. or to what end it was to eep wine in the vat. I have my end. and rarely trip by chance. for give me the whole provision and necessaries of a itchen. in li e manner. nel cor mi suona intero. and the folly of my design: 'tis enough that my judgment does not contradict itself. since I must publish my whole shame 'tis not above a month ago. qui se mirantur. his masters. nor to physic a horse or a dog. an aptitude for the mathematics in him they saw ingeniously bavin up a burthen of brushwood. so it is. wines and viands. the meanness of the subject compels me to it. to what sect soever we incline. Ne perdas operam. the variety and nature of fruits. traffic. ing of Sicily." I can maintain an opinion. ne no. but I cannot choose one. in illos Virus habe.                             . many appearances present themselves that confirm us in it (and the philosopher Chrysippus said. which is irresolution. nor how to ma e a haw fly.succeed them. and yet I can neither cast accounts. I sufficiently see of how little weight and value all this is. Non potes in nugas dicere plura meas. They may. By reason that in human things. I do not so much as understand the names of the chief instruments of husbandry. of which these are the essays: {BK2_9 ^paragraph 120} "Nasutus sis usque licet.

and the variety of human events presenting us with infinite examples of all sorts of forms. be on which side you will. how many several points it has. for. and they who have ta en up the cudgels against him. throw the feather into the wind. et lubrica. a very light inclination and circumstance carries me along with it: {BK2_9 ^paragraph 135} "Dum in dubio est animus. have left as great a facility of controverting theirs. replies and replies upon replies. to confess the truth. and wet where they say dry. that I could willingly refer it to be decided by the chance of a die: and I observe. I still furnish myself with causes. for example.learn their doctrines only. for the most part. and then. there is a large field open for changes and contestation: {BK2_9 ^paragraph 140} "Justa pari premitur veluti cum pondere libra. I am thus good for nothing but to follow and suffer myself to be easily carried away with the crowd. and commit myself to the mercy of fortune. as the saying is. paulo momento hue atque Illuc impellitur. as our wrangling lawyers have extended in favor of long suits: "Caedimur. till occasion presses. An understanding person of our times says: That whoever would. Prona. if he were to lay a wager. he would not care which side he too . write cold where they say hot. which ma es me detain doubt and the liberty of choosing. I have the same opinion of these political controversies. he should find enough of his own). as to proofs and reasons. you have as fair a game to play as your adversary. I do not easily change. I have not confidence enough in my own strength to ta e upon me to command and lead. I. I am very glad to find the way beaten before me by others. provided you do not proceed so far as to jostle               . Yet. I am rather willing to have it under such a one as is more confident in his opinions than I am in mine." Human reason is a two-edged and dangerous sword: observe in the hands of Socrates. and always put the contrary to what they foretell. were solid enough for the subject. which way soever I turn. by reason that I discern the same wea ness in contrary opinions: "Ipsa consuetudo assentiendi periculosa esse videtur." especially in political affairs. et totidem plagis consumimus hostem. there was never wanting in that ind of argument. yet were they easy enough to be controverted. and as infinite a contexture of debates. her most intimate and familiar friend. the examples that the divine history itself has left us of this custom of referring to fortune and chance the determination of election in doubtful things: "Sors cecidit super Matthiam." {BK2_9 ^paragraph 145} the reasons having little other foundation than experience." Macchiavelli's writings. with great consideration of our human infirmity. whose ground and foundation I find to be very slippery and unsure. or extremity of cold at midsummer. and li elihood enough to fix me there." The uncertainty of my judgment is so equally balanced in most occurrences. nec hac plus parte sedet. in contradiction to our almanacs. excepting where no uncertainty could fall out. as to promise excessive heats at Christmas. If I must run the hazard of an uncertain choice. nec surgit ab illa.

and is hardly sensible of the weight and difficulty. and to condemn. besides. my recommendation is vulgar and common. Our manners are infinitely corrupt. is that wherein never any man thought himself to be defective. now no other value but that of learning. Knowledge. if not (and then with much ado). there is no government so ill. 'tis tenacious and strong. that did not thin they had sense enough to do their business. and eep it where it is. but an advantage in judgment we yield to none. but what the first ray of the patient's sight nevertheless pierces through and disperses. vulgar souls cannot discern the grace and force of a lofty and delicate style. would be also able to raise his own to the same pitch. strength. without tormenting themselves as to the causes. never any man undertoo it but he did it. It is very easy to accuse a government of imperfection. and that our laws. many who have attempted it have foundered. The third sort into whose hands you fall. is in some sort ignorant of himself. in an extreme and incomparable distance. and the danger of stirring things. by reason of the difficulty of reformation. for who ever thought he wanted sense? It would be a proposition that would imply a contradiction in itself. no more than our clothes. So that it is a sort of exercise. provided it be ancient and has been constant. and such parts as we see in others' wor s. and allow of no other proceeding of wit but that of eruditon and art: if you have mista en one of the Scipios for another. better than they who command. if I could put something under to stop the wheel. experience. ut non pejora supersint. And yet. We easily enough confess in others an advantage of courage. Now these two sorts of men ta e up the world. according to their rule. to absolve.principles that are too manifest to be disputed. and beauty. to whom the authority appertains of judging boo s. and the reasons that proceed simply from the natural conclusions of others. in public affairs." The worst thing I find in our state is instability. a ind of composition of small repute. for all mortal things are full of it: it is very easy to beget in a people a contempt of ancient observances. to return to myself: the only thing by which I esteem myself to be something. we are soon aware of. we should ourselves have found out as well as they. from which a man is to expect very little praise. adeoque pudendis Utimur exemplis. activity. And. cannot settle in any certain form. of                           . if they excel our own: but for the simple products of the understanding. in my conceit. we thin . if we had but turned our thoughts that way. what is all the rest you have to say worth? Whoever is ignorant of Aristotle. I am willing to let it be guided by the public rule. as the beams of the sun do thic and obscure mists: to accuse one's self would be to excuse in this case. 'tis a disease that never is where it is discerned. every one thin s he could have found out the li e in himself. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 150} In fine. but to establish a better regimen in the stead of that which a man has overthrown. for whom do you write? The learned. I very little consult my prudence in my conduct. Happy the people who do what they are commanded. who suffer themselves gently to roll after the celestial revolution! Obedience is never pure nor calm in him who reasons and disputes. of our laws and customs there are many that are barbarous and monstrous. that is not better than change and alteration. and wonderfully incline to the worse. nevertheless. style. And whoever should be able clearly to discern the height of another's judgment. I would do it with all my heart: "Numquam adeo foedis. There never was porter or the silliest girl.

Other men's thoughts are ever wandering abroad." {BK2_9 ^paragraph 155} Now I find my opinions very bold and constant in condemning my own imperfection. put me out of taste both with others and myself. And. and there fix and employ it. All that others distribute among an infinite number of friends and acquaintance. indeed." for my part." Here. I see in regularity. yet so it is that I see nothing worthy of any great admiration. have I so great an intimacy with many men as is requisite to ma e a right judgement of them. correspondence. were born with me. aliorum naturam imitans omittas tuam. The reputation that every one pretends to of vivacity and promptness of wit. and a more manifest fruition and possession of that I had before embraced. then. whom I have found of the same judgment. as one that place it almost wholly in myself. "Nemo in sese tentat descendere. Neither. I have since established and fortified them with the authority of others and the sound examples of the ancients. si. and do not let much run out. but who does not thin the same of his own? One of the best proofs I have that mine are so. I now not whether or no I can so well excuse myself. or that. that which escapes thence is not properly by my direction: "Mihi nempe valere et vivere doctus.souls that are regular and strong of themselves. with a strong and bold production. I dedicate to the repose of my own mind and to myself. whatever it be. is that of sense. they have given me faster hold. they would easily have suffered themselves to have been deceived by the peculiar affection I have to myself. considering and tasting myself. the age we live in produces but very indifferent things. to their glory and grandeur. that it justly has neither name nor place among us. The world loo s always opposite. tum singularum actionum. would see beyond his sight. that I said was the vice of presumption. I circulate in myself. I turn my sight inward. or to endeavor to please it. the glory they pretend to from a stri ing and signal action. and the idea of those great souls of past ages. peradventure. I am eternally meditating upon myself. I claim from order. it be that the continual frequentation I have had with the humors of the ancients. 'tis a subject upon which I exercise my judgment. quam conservare non possis. and tranquillity of opinions and manners: "Omnine si quidquam est decorum. is the small esteem I have of myself. if they will but see it. for there is no one who is not contented with his share: is it not reason? whoever should see beyond that. to say the truth. nihil est profecto magis. they are still going forward. in truth. is so rare. as a man may say. I owe principally to myself. As to the second. or some particular excellence. they are natural and entirely my own. as much as upon any other. I produced them crude and simple. quam aequabilitas universae vitae. and this free humor of not over easily subjecting my belief. in myself. but a little troubled and imperfect. 'Tis commonly said that the justest portion nature has given us of her favors. and those with whom my condition ma es me the                   . for had they not been very well assured. but whatever comes on't I am resolved to spea the truth. I have no other business but myself. for the strongest and most general imaginations I have are those that. And whether. which consists in not having a sufficient esteem for others. and 'tis so much time lost to aspire unto it. you see to what degree I find myself guilty of this first part. This capacity of trying the truth. I thin my opinions are good and sound.

This commendable and generous custom is observed of the Persian nation. She has not taught us to follow and embrace virtue and prudence. if we now not how to love it: if we do not now what prudence is really and in effect. having added much to those great natural parts by learning and study. his was a full soul indeed. for they ma e use of them without discretion. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 160} What I see that is fine in others I very readily commend and esteem: nay. another conscience. another. men who have little care of the culture of the soul. or because the opinion they have of their own learning ma es them more bold to expose and lay themselves too open. but learned. indred. but this education of ours has taught us definitions. another language. one science. we desire.most frequent. are. as honorably and justly as their virtues deserved. but to attribute to them qualities that they have not. and the greatest I ever new. than in a matter of less value. by jargon and heart: we are not content to now the extraction. however. my affection alters. either because more is required and expected from them. and that had produced great effects had his fortune been so pleased. was Etienne De la Boetie. who ta e upon them learned callings and boo ish employments as in any other sort of men whatever. and give me myself so far leave to lie. Galen. I now men enough that have several fine parts. I do myself a greater injury in lying than I do him of whom I tell a lie. Nay. and partitions of virtue. Ulpian. As an artificer more manifests his want of s ill in a rich matter he has in hand. and by experience. the end of which is not to render us good and wise. divisions. and I am so jealous of the liberty of my judgment that I can very hardly part with it for any passion what ever. my judgment does not. and that had every way a beautiful aspect: a soul of the old stamp. another address. one wit. one. and where a foot is due I am willing to give them a foot and a half. as so many surnames and branches of a genealogy. without                                           . another. and alliances of our neighbors. to have them our friends and to establish a correspondence and intelligence with them. but she has imprinted in us their derivation and etymology. Jerome ali e. another courage. and she has obtained it. or any one of them to such a degree of excellence that we should admire him or compare him with those we honor of times past. and St. if he disgrace the wor by ill handling and contrary to the rules required. I mean for the natural parts of the soul. and that common defects are excusable in them. by which they lose and betray themselves. but a generally great man. and valor as the height of all perfection. I cannot do it. moreover. for the most part. that they spo e of their mortal enemies and with whom they were at deadly war. for I cannot invent a false subject: my testimony is never wanting to my friends in what I conceive deserves praise. nor openly defend their imperfections. we have it. and who has all these brave parts together. honoring their memories at the expense of their understandings. and men are more displeased at a disproportion in a statue of gold than in one of plaster. and I never confound my animosity with other circumstances that are foreign to it. we now how to decline virtue. I often say more in their commendation than I thin they really deserve. there is as much vanity and wea ness of judgment in those who profess the greatest abilities. I fran ly give my very enemies their due testimony of honor. my fortune never brought me acquainted with. and ma ing themselves ridiculous by honoring Cicero. so do these when they advance things that in themselves and in their place would be good. But how it comes to pass I now not. but that loo upon honor as the sum of all blessings. and yet it is certainly so. I willingly fall again into the discourse of the vanity of our education.

were both of them great and noble. were the du e of Guise. at the head of an army through his conduct victorious. It has culled out for our initiatory instruction not such boo s as contain the soundest and truest opinions. better than any man of his time. Montdore. wherein he always ept up the reputation of a great and experienced captain. potus ut ille Dicitur ex collo furtim carpsisse coronas. I must penetrate a great deal deeper) for soldiers and military conduct. Beza. and of our Constable de Montmorency. too. which was the sudden change and reformation of his former life. Turnebus: as to the French poets. and robbery). in my opinion. who going by chance to hear one of Xenocrates' lectures. and conscientious facility of Monsieur de la Noue. against his nearest relations. chancellors of France. A good education alters the judgment and manners. and the late Marshal Strozzi. as it happened to Polemon. I find the rude manners and language of country people commonly better suited to the rule and prescription of true philosophy. her soul will one day be capable of very great things. quod olim Mutatus Polemon? ponas insignia morbi Fasciolas. who died at Orleans. in so extreme old age.any further care of establishing any familiarity or intimacy between her and us. did not only observe the eloquence and learning of the reader. we have abundance of very good artificers in the trade. sapit. and De l'Hospital." The most remar able men. quia tantum. a lewd and debauched young Gree . and invites us to a more regular course. inhumanity. and what he did now. to which we do not read that any of her sex could                                 . As also the constant goodness. Olivier. L'Hospital. I have ta en a delight to publish in several places the hopes I have of Marie de Gournay le Jars. and enveloped in my solitude and retirement as one of the best parts of my own being. merits methin s to be recorded among the most remar able events of our times." That seems to me to be the least contemptible condition of men. and by their fine words has instilled into our fancy the vainest humors of antiquity. in their service. but those that spea the best Gree and Latin. quantum opus est. but a more manifest and a more solid profit. Whoever found such an effect of our discipline? {BK2_9 ^paragraph 165} "Faciasne. my adopted daughter. Buchanan. I believe they raised their art to the highest pitch to which it can ever arrive. which by its plainness and simplicity is seated in the lowest degree. D'Aurat. and not only brought away the nowledge of some fine matter. I find them little inferior to the ancient perfection. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 170} Postquam est impransi correptus voce magistri. and that had many rare resemblances of fortune. of the perfection of that sacred friendship. And if a man may presage from her youth. in the sight of Paris and of his ing. as I have judged by outward appearance (for to judge of them according to my own method. but the beauty and glory of the death of the last. I have no longer regard to anything in this world but her. than those of our philosophers themselves: "Plus sapit vulgus. Adrian Turnebus new more. sweetness of manners. or long before him. in so great an injustice of armed parties (the true school of treason. and by a sudden stro e. The lives of the last du e of Alva. and in those parts of it wherein Ronsard and du Bellay excel. focalia. cubital. and among others. has flourished in this age of ours. and for men of great ability and no common virtue. Poetry. and certainly beloved by me with more than a paternal love.

The most profound joy has more of severity than gayety in it. "Ipsa felicitas. there is some shadow of delight and delicacy which smiles upon and flatters us even in the very lap of melancholy. faintness. Socrates says. to couple them by the tail. might not so much afflict her. and so 'tis with metals. and desired my acquaintance solely from the esteem she had thence of me. nevertheless. and also the Stoics. {BK2_10 X. and that we do not purchase but at the price of some evil. is an incident very worthy of consideration. Pyrrho. and in this. so young. that beside ambition. fall into our use. morbidezza: a great testimony of their consanguinity and consubstantiality. The highest and fullest contentment offers more of the grave than of the merry. and such. which says that the gods sell us all the goods they give us. Of the pleasure and goods that we enjoy. that is to say. Neither has virtue. se nisi temperat. we have souls brave even to perfection. that they give us nothing pure and perfect." Pleasure chews and grinds us. and in so great number that the choice is impossible to be made. premit. the sincerity and solidity of her manners are already sufficient for it. nor the Cyrenaic and Aristippic pleasure. THAT WE TASTE NOTHING PURE THE imbecility of our condition is such that things cannot. and her affection towards me more than superabundant. made the end of life. consent. Are there not some constitutions that feed upon it? -               . Labor and pleasure. as that there is nothing more to be wished. been without mixture useful to it. but for my part. in their natural simplicity and purity. the elements that we enjoy are changed. would you not say that it is dying of pain? Nay when we frame the image of it in its full excellence. there is not one exempt from some mixture of ill and inconvenience: "Medio de fonte leporum. which may also have a stro e in the business. and alone in her own country." Our extremest pleasure has some air of groaning and complaining in it. we stuff it with sic ly and painful epithets and qualities. very unli e in nature. being now five and fifty years old. {BK2_10 ^paragraph 5} Surgit amari aliquid. {BK2_9 ^paragraph 175} This is all of extraordinary and not common grandeur that has hitherto arrived at my nowledge. he bethought him at least. associate. in short. according to the old Gree verse. languor. so simple as that which Aristo. Other virtues have had little or no credit in this age. I now not whether or no he intended anything else by that saying. Metrodorus said that in sorrow there is some mixture of pleasure. but valor is become popular by our civil wars. The judgment she made of my first Essays. and in this age. I say. I am of opinion that there is design. being a woman. that some god tried to mix in one mass and to confound pain and pleasure. quod in ipsis floribus angat.ever yet arrive. and complacency in giving a man's self up to melancholy. before she ever saw my face. but not being able to do it. if not that the apprehension she has of my end. feebleness. and gold must be debased with some other matter to fit it for our service. by I now not what natural conjunction. and the famous vehemence wherewith she loved me. softness.

When I religiously confess myself to myself. disturb our negotiations. so continual. while he doubted which was the most li ely. Indeed. insomuch that Plato says they underta e to cut off the hydra's head. that the memory of our lost friends is as grateful to us. and naturally ma es haste to escape as from a place where he cannot stand firm. puer. serve for laughter too. animi. as any other whatever) if he had listened and laid his ear close to himself. he is running away while he is there. obtorpuerant. and where he is afraid of sin ing. Even the laws of justice themselves cannot subsist without mixture of injustice. This sharp vivacity of soul. who am as sincere and loyal a lover of virtue of that stamp. that by reason his imagination suggested to him.{BK2_10 ^paragraph 10} "Est quaedam flere voluptas. and the elevated and exquisite opinions of philosophy unfit for business. I find that the best virtue I have has in it some tincture of vice. there may be some excesses in the purity and perspicacity of our minds. and the supple and restless volubility attending it. he totally despaired of the truth. and he did so no doubt. in his purest virtue (I. and leave a great part to fortune. in its most excessive height) I feel him melting under the weight of his delight. We are to manage human enterprises more superficially and roughly.               . at last bring tears. Falerni Inger' mi calices amaroires" and as apples that have a sweet tartness. but faint and only perceptible to himself. that penetrating light has in it too much of subtlety and curiosity: we must a little stupefy and blunt them to render them more obedient to example and practice. and the extreme of laughter does. Man is wholly and throughout but patch and motley." and one Attalus in Seneca says. would have heard some jarring sound of human mixture. quod contra singulos utilitate publica rependitur. do but observe the painter's manner of handling. and I am afraid that Plato. It is li ewise true. upon the question King Hiero had put to him (to answer which he had had many days to meditate in). and you will be in doubt to which of the two the design tends. when too old. "Nullum sine auctoramento malum est. {BK2_10 ^paragraph 15} Nature discovers this confusion to us.. and so universal a pleasure." 'Tis what the ancients say of Simonides. painters hold that the same motions and screwings of the face that serve for weeping. several sharp and subtle considerations. that for the use of life and the service of public commerce." When I imagine man abounding with all the conveniences that are to be desired (let us put the case that all his members were always seized with a pleasure li e that of generation. and indeed.. before the one or the other be finished. it is not necessary to examine affairs with so much subtlety and so deep: a man loses himself in the consideration of so many contrary lusters. "Omne magnum exemplum habet aliquid ex iniquo. And therefore common and less speculative souls are found to be more proper for and more successful in the management of affairs." says Tacitus. who pretend to clear the law of all inconveniences. is to the palate"Minister vetuli. as bitterness in wine. and see him utterly unable to support so pure. "Volutantibus res inter se pugnantes. and so many various forms. the better to proportion them to this dar and earthy life. and a little veil and obscure them.

and confiscated all his goods. And it seems that the Latins also sometimes ta e it in this sense for the whole hand. OF THUMBS Tacitus reports. not to ma e any mention of his misfortunes. cut off the thumbs of all his vanquished enemies. and intertwist their thumbs. the senate. had condemned Caius Vatienus to perpetual imprisonment. to join their right hands close to one another. and a most excellent discourser upon all sorts of good husbandry. {BK2_11 XI. that among certain barbarian ings their manner was." The Romans exempted from war all such were maimed in the thumbs. Augustus confiscated the strength of a Roman night. whether of less or greater weight. who had maliciously cut off the thumbs of two young children he had. and there is not in the world a fairer show of soul and understanding than he has. to deprive them of the superiority in the art of navigation. for the most part. to exempt himself from that expedition. in the time of the Italic war. to excuse them from going into the armies: and before him. nevertheless. I now another who tal s. who better advises than any man of his counsel. when they would ma e a firm obligation. and when. as who should say. by force of straining." The Gree s called them Anticheir. The Athenians also caused the thumbs of the Aeginatans to be cut off. they lightly pric ed them with some sharp instrument. for having purposely cut off the thumb of his left hand.                         . hinders his elections: a little engine well handled is sufficient for executions. pedagogues chastised their scholars by biting their thumb. and mutually suc ed them. I have forgotten who.{BK2_10 ^paragraph 20} He who dives into and in his inquisition comprehends all circumstances and consequences. as having no more sufficient strength to hold their weapons. and that their Latin etymology is derived from "pollere. Physicians say. Some one. Quemlibet occidunt populariter. his servants find him quite another thing. {BK2_11 ^paragraph 5} "Sed nec vocibus excitata blandis." It was at Rome a signification of favor to depress and turn in the thumbs: "Fautor utroque tuum laudabit pollice ludum:" and of disfavor to elevate and thrust them outward: {BK2_11 ^paragraph 10} "Converso pollice vulgi. while the greatest tal ers. Molli pollice nec rogata. do nothing to purpose: I now one of this sort of men. In Lacedaemon. The best managers are those who can worst give account how they are so. that the thumbs are the master fingers of the hand. another hand. who has miserably let a hundred thousand livres yearly revenue slip through his hands. to render them incapable of fighting and of handling the oar. surgit. when he comes to the test. having won a naval battle. the blood it appeared in the ends.

and that in so long a voyage I should at last run myself into some disadvantage. "presently. who did not in due time pay the principal. and that every one may see each piece as it came from the forge. for the world loo s upon several things as dreadful or to be avoided at the expense of life." The sufferings that only attac the mind. I am not so sensible of as most other men. for which. that I have been in this uneasy condition. through a dull and insensible complexion I have in accidents which do not point blan hit               . I have often thought with myself." "I do not mean from my life. but it is my comfort that he will be no greater a gainer than I shall be a loser by the theft. and have found wherein to comfort myself. and had ta en more notice of the course of my mutations. As to the rest I never correct my first by any second conceptions. even from my infancy. and never anywhere but at home. And yet I was so far from being ready. Lubricos quate dentes. and not to destroy my former meaning. who had come to visit him. that are almost indifferent to me: partly. I have so inured myself to it as to be content to live on in it. to deliver them. "Debilem facito manu. by the liberality of years. Vita dum superest. of all the accidents of old age. when he put all he could hear of to death. that of which I have ever been most afraid. I am grown older by seven or eight years since I began. bene est. For there was not one of them who would not rather have undergone a triple leprosy than be deprived of his being. and to hope: so much are men enslaved to their miserable being. occasions eeping me sometimes many months elsewhere. being very sic . wherewith he was best pleased. if thou wilt." he replied. that there is no condition so wretched they will not accept. and that life should be cut off in the sound and living part. but when I have too much idle time. nor has it been without some new acquisition: I have. coxa. "Who will deliver me from these evils?" Diogenes. presenting him a nife. and that nature made him pay very strict usury." And Tamerlane. for it could not possibly have laid upon me a disease. so that it is compiled after divers interruptions and intervals. with a foolish humanity. been acquainted with the stone: their commerce and long converse do not well pass away without some such inconvenience. that it was time to depart. A servant of mine whom I employed to transcribe for me. according to the surgeon's rule in amputations. in that time. provided they may live! Hear Maecenas. I perceived and have often enough declared. it had chosen some one that would have been more welcome to me. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 5} Debilem pede.{BK2_12 XII. from the painful life they lived. I could have been glad that of other infirmities age has to present long-lived men withal. in truth. and crying out. peradventure. "but from my disease. may alter a word or so: but 'tis only to vary the phrase. I have had so great a horror. that in the eighteen months time or thereabout. and it is. And Antisthenes the Stoic. and this partly out of judgment. thought he had got a prize by several pieces from me. I. that I went on too far. "This. palliated the fantastic cruelty he exercised upon lepers. as he pretended." said he. OF THE RESEMBLANCE OF CHILDREN TO THEIR FATHERS THIS faggoting up of so many divers pieces is so done that I never set pen to paper. I have a mind to represent the progress of my humors. I could wish I had begun sooner.

to be. What matter the wringing of our hands. and consequences which physic is ever thundering in our ears. not for others. she maintain the soul in a condition to now itself. as we employ them. more trouble the repose of life than they are any way useful to it. that most of the faculties of the soul. trouble itself about these external appearances? Let us leave that care to actors and masters of rhetoric. and to follow its accustomed way. and yet I either flatter myself. should the sharpness of it be once greater than I shall be able to bear. and turning pale. I was more afraid than I have since found I had cause: by which I am still more fortified in this belief. let it tumble and toss at pleasure. Let her allow this vocal frailty to disease. if the mind plays its part well. it does not throw me into the other no less vicious extreme. that. And yet. and the tones not expressive of despair. I had in my imagination fancied them so insupportable. 'tis cruelty to require so exact a composedness. not to seem. in truth. and of the menaces. but my pain will dissolve this intelligence. in the fury of the colic. that. moved and heated. the most mortal. capable and discourse and other things. I am in conflict with the worst. let it complain. palpitations. let her be satisfied with governing our understanding which she has ta en upon her the care of instructing. which only has respect to life and effects. as to reconciling and acquainting myself with death. though with a sight wea and delicate and softened with the long and happy health and quiet that God has been pleased to give me the greatest part of my time. or there is even in this state what is very well to be endured by a man who has his soul free from the fear of death. provided the courage be undaunted. and permit the ordinary ways of expressing grief by sighs. 'Tis no great matter that we ma e a wry face. to a certain degree. under pain. the most sudden. Why should philosophy. conclusions. it will perfect. if it be neither cordial nor stomachic. but the effect even of pain itself is not so sharp and intolerable as to put a man of understanding into rage and despair. that nature has put out of our power.me. and. having long since foreseen them. but the one has its remedy much nearer at hand than the other. if we do not wring our thoughts? She forms us for ourselves. God grant that in the end. or if this do but divert                 . if it seem to find the disease evaporate (as some physicians hold that it helps women in delivery) in ma ing loud outcries. I have already had the trial of five or six very long and very painful fits. the most painful. As to the rest. nec optes:" they are two passions to be feared. if the body find itself relieved by complaining. who set so great a value upon our gestures. if agitation ease it. contending with. I have at least this advantage by my stone. I shall be so much the less afraid to die. In such extreme accidents. to desire and wish to die! {BK2_12 ^paragraph 10} "Summum nec metuas diem. I have always found the precept. to be merely ceremonial. and that insensibly I loo upon as one of the best parts of my natural condition: but essential and corporeal pains I am very sensible of. in the contention. that what I could not hitherto prevail upon myself to resolve upon. for the more it presses upon and importunes me. and the most irremediable of all diseases. let her be satisfied. that so rigorously enjoins a resolute countenance and disdainful and indifferent comportment in the toleration of infirmities. sobs. not subdued and conquered. I had already gone so far as only to love life for life's sa e. and enduring not meanly truc ling.

but not so firmly. being troubled and interrupted by the pain. without troubling ourselves with these superfluous rules. that I put any great constraint upon myself to maintain this exterior decorum. that we confess our ignorance in many things. or I have more than ordinary patience.its torments. atque animo mecum ante peregi. yet I have hitherto ept my mind so upright that. the most remote I can contrive from my present condition. Omnia praecepi. Which I say in excuse of those whom we ordinarily see impatient in the assaults of this malady. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 25} There is a certain sort of crafty humility that springs from presumption. what pity 'tis I have not the faculty of that dreamer in Cicero. I complain. as this. and are so courteous as to ac nowledge that there are in the wor s of nature some qualities and conditions that are                   . thin . fremitibus Resonando. in jactandis caestibus ingemiscunt. Let us not command this voice to sally. I have passed it over hitherto with a little better countenance. When I am loo ed upon by my visitors to be in the greatest torment. and give a rational answer as well as at any other time. I often essay my own strength. who have no fever nor other disease but what they create to themselves for want of meditation. found he had discharged his stone in the sheets! My pains strangely disappetite me that way. multum flebiles voces refert:" I try myself in the depth of my dolor. it begins with me after a more sharp and severe manner than it is used to do with other men. quia profundenda voce omne corpus intenditur. when my ureters only languish without any great dolor. which I certainly owe to the care I have had of preparing myself by meditation against such accidents: {BK2_12 ^paragraph 20} "Laborum Nulla mihi nova nunc facies inopinaque surgit. but it must not continue long. who dreaming he was lying with a wench. but stop it not. My fits come so thic upon me that I am scarcely ever at ease. Oh. gemitu. I presently feel myself in my wonted state. nevertheless. and that they therefore forbear to trouble me. I find myself in a much better condition of life than a thousand others. not." I am. for example. a little roughly handled for a learner. I can do anything upon a sudden endeavor. provided I can still continue it. for as to what concerns myself. Epicurus not only forgives his sage for crying out in torments. I allow herein as much as the pain requires. but advises him to it: "Pugiles etiam. and myself set some discourse on foot. and am a little impatient in a very sharp fit. and with a sudden and sharp alteration. but either my pains are not so excessive. for I ma e little account of such an advantage. venitque plaga vehementior. and have always found that I was in a capacity to spea . For besides that it is a disease very much to be feared in itself. however. let it roar as it will. In the intervals from this excessive torment." We have enough to do to deal with the disease. I confess. forasmuch as my soul ta es no other alarm but what is sensible and corporal. quum feriunt. and contented myself with groaning without roaring out. but I do not arrive to such a degree of despair as he who with {BK2_12 ^paragraph 15} "Ejulatu. being fallen in an instant from a very easy and happy condition of life into the most uneasy and painful that can be imagined. questu.

as their manner is. Human things are not usually so constant. fortune goes a great deal further than reason. And is not this an express and very advantageous experience? I do not now that they can find me in all their records three that were born. What a wonderful thing it is that the drop of seed from which we are produced should carry in itself the impression not only of the bodily form. but even of the thoughts and inclinations of our fathers! Where can that drop of fluid matter contain that infinite number of forms? and how can they carry on these resemblances with so temerarious and irregular a progress that the son shall be li e his great-grandfather. and he who was not born so was loo ed upon as illegitimate. They must here of necessity confess. for he died wonderfully tormented with a great stone in his bladder. vigorous state of health. I will believe him in as many other miracles as he pleases. and he continued seven years after. among so many brothers and sisters. and in the time of his most flourishing and healthful state of body. by this so honest and conscientious declaration we hope to obtain that people shall also believe us as to those that we say we do understand. save eighteen. sides. for by this same infusion and fatal insinuation it is that I have received a hatred and contempt of their doctrine. the antipathy I have against their art is hereditary. my grandfather sixty-nine. My father lived threescore and fourteen years. that if reason be not. At Thebes there was a race that carried from their mother's womb the form of the head of a lance. Physic is grounded upon experience and examples: so is my opinion. He that can satisfy me in this point.imperceptible to us. where could his propension to this malady lie lur ing all that while? And he being then so far from the infirmity. among the things that we ordinarily see. with them. that was ever troubled with it. 'Tis to be believed that I derive this infirmity from my father. Let the physicians a little excuse the liberty I ta e. that were treachery. either in his reins. till then. the nephew li e his uncle? In the family of Lepidus at Rome there were three. or any other part. not successively but by intervals. methin s. let them not threaten me in the subdued condition wherein I now am. for the first of them was born in the year                   . his third child in order of birth. dragging on a very painful end of life. and with physicians. in this disease. he was never sensible of his disease till the sixty-seventh year of his age. In truth. who have lived so long by their conduct. was instead of a drug. who were born with the same eye covered with a cartilage. where the women were in common. they assigned the children to their fathers by their resemblance. that they should rest satisfied. bred and died under the same roof. I was born above five and twenty years before his disease seized him. in a happy. We need not trouble ourselves to see out foreign miracles and difficulties. and had lived. I have enough the better of them by these domestic examples. carry away so great an impression for its share? and how so concealed. my great grandfather almost fourscore years. I did not begin to be sensible of it? being the only one to this hour. that till five and forty years after. And Aristotle says that in a certain nation. always provided that. there are such incomprehensible wonders as surpass all difficulties of miracles. that this trial has lasted. fortune at least is on my side. and before that had never felt any menace or symptoms of it. without ever tasting any sort of physic: and. it has been two hundred years. he do not give me a doctrine much more intricate and fantastic than the thing itself for current pay. little subject to infirmities. and of which our understanding cannot discover the means and causes. how could that small part of his substance wherewith he made me. and all by one mother. Let them not ta e me now at a disadvantage. whatever was not ordinary diet.

'Tis possible I may have derived this natural antipathy to physic from them. and wherein we eep no bounds nor moderation. not only his time. of the strongest constitution. is it not enough that I for my part have lived seven and forty years in good health? though it should be the end of my career. a churchman. in truth. "I am then a dead man. the Sieur de Saint Michel only excepted. that being in outward appearance. All means that conduce to health can neither be too painful nor too dear to me. my uncle by the father's side. forasmuch as. Let them not. he would infallibly be a dead man. As                       . I would have endeavored to have overcome it. the Sieur de Bussaguet. but also his life itself to obtain it. My ancestors had an aversion to physic by some occult and natural instinct: for the very sight of a potion was loathsome to my father. in the least. and a valetudinary from his birth. being once fallen into a furious fever. if greater pains be the consequence. of the commerce he had with the other arts. and pains to be coveted. and senna-leaves purging. I experimentally now that radishes are windy. by reason I suppose. but I mistrust the inventions of our mind. reproach me with the infirmities under which I now suffer. and it succeeded so ill with him. and yet who made that crazy life hold out to sixty-seven years. but I have supported and fortified it by arguments and reasons which have established in me the opinion I am of. for he was a councilor in the court of parliament. The good man. meriting that a man should lay out. that there are not among so many wor s of nature. It may be I had naturally this propension. learning. The Seigneur de Gaviac. and of its application to our necessities: I very well see that pi es and swallows live by her laws. and virtue. to countenance which.1402: 'tis now. are vicious. life is wearisome and injurious to us: pleasure. And with Epicurus. 'tis of the longer sort. of the power and fertility of nature. we need no more but oppose the image of Plato being struc with an epilepsy or apoplexy. as that mutton nourishes me. that will terminate in greater pleasures. things proper for the conservation of health: that is most certain: I very well now there are some simples that moisten and others that dry. was the only one of the family who made use of medicine. and the only one." I do not disapprove the use we ma e of things the earth produces.there were four of them. and to the most labored and solid discourses that philosophy would imprint in us to the contrary. it was ordered by the physicians he should be plainly told that if he would not ma e use of help (for so they call that which is very often quite contrary). indeed. without it. very good reason that this experience should begin to fail us." But God soon after made the prognostic false. sweat. I do not deny but that there may be some art in it. for all these conditions that spring in us without reason. 'tis a ind of disease that we should wrestle with. but had there been no other consideration in the case. I conceive that pleasures are to be avoided. nor doubt. Health is a precious thing. For I also hate the consideration of refusing physic for the nauseous taste: I should hardly be of that humor. therefore. our nowledge and art. though terrified with this dreadful sentence. The youngest of the brothers. and. to defy him to call the rich faculties of his soul to his assistance.and by many years the youngest. we have abandoned nature and her rules. labor and goods. wither away and vanish. in this presupposition. and several other such experiences I have. yet replied. But I have some other appearances that ma e me strangely suspect all this merchandise. and wine warms me: and Solon said "that eating was physic against the malady hunger. wisdom. who hold health to be worth purchasing by all the most painful cauteries and incisions that can be applied. he yet died before any of the rest. without it.

without their help. when I am sic . its propositions. as those who ta e much physic. of all this diversity and confusion of prescriptions. between ourselves. I neither honor nor esteem. And to say the truth. extract suspicion of some great sic ness to ensue? I have been sic often enough. and always with the same success. but the strongest wine they can get. Physicians are not content to deal only with the sic . after their children are arrived to four years of age. experience ma es me dread it. by which means they cut off all defluxions of rheum for their whole lives. with hare's mil . without any preceding need. do not nevertheless. so useful for the service of man ind. but without a physician: for everything that we find to be healthful to life may be called physic. or any following                                         . or without swallowing their ill-tasting doses. and as those who scoff at and accuse it. mixed with a great deal of saffron and spice. to burn and cauterize the veins of their head and temples. And the country people of our province ma e use of nothing. than what I must have when I am well. in all sorts of distempers. that the Arcadians cured all manner of diseases with that of a cow. for fear men should at any time escape their authority. without other rule or discipline than my own custom and pleasure. and these the first ages. as Pliny reports. no apothecary. and after having made trial of it.we call the piling up of the first laws that fall into our hands. that is to say. Do they not. and I do not now whether such evacuations be so much to our advantage as they pretend. by a custom they have. blame that noble virtue itself. for I need no other conveniences. who made it appear how easy it was to live without it. The Romans were six hundred years before they received it. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 30} In the first place. and ept his wife alive to an extreme old age. as wine does of its lees to eep it alive: you often see healthful men fall into vomitings and fluxs of the belly by some extrinsic accident. as Plutarch says. and their practice and dispensation very often foolish and very unjust. and whether nature does not require a residence of her excrements to a certain proportion. The health I have is full and free. the best and most happy. its promises. I never disturb myself that I have no physician. many nations are ignorant of it to this day. which I see most other sic men more afflicted at than they are with their disease. where men live more healthful and longer than we do here. but only condemn the abuse and profanation of that sacred title. from a continual and perfect health. but they will moreover corrupt health itself. and have always found my sic nesses easy enough to be supported (though I have made trial of almost all sorts) and as short as those of any other. but to purge the belly? which a thousand ordinary simples will do as well. banished it from their city at the instance of Cato the Censor. nor any other assistance. if I mista e not. so in physic I very much honor that glorious name. what other end and effect is there after all. having himself lived four score and five years. He ept his family in health. and so long before they are well. and the tenth part of the world nows nothing of it yet. What! Do the doctors themselves show us more felicity and duration in their own lives. and Herodotus says. justice. but the ordinances it foists upon us. I see no people so soon sic . not without physic. the Lybians generally enjoy rare health. and ma e a great evacuation of excrements. Every place serves me well enough to stay in. for among all my acquaintance. and even among us the common people live well enough without it. that may manifest to us some apparent effect of their s ill? There is not a nation in the world that has not been many ages without physic. their very health is altered and corrupted by their frequent prescriptions.

to swallow things so hard to be believed. for what fortune. that it had been much worse but for those remedies. who do not employ physicians. Let us. for now thou wilt throw those who had formerly thrown thee. and bring it to its end.benefit. it is the privilege of physic to attribute to itself. a dream. the general order of things that ta es care of fleas and moles. our fears. they have a very advantageous way of ma ing use of all sorts of events. and that the drug is an assistant not to be trusted. had but for them been in a continued fever. also ta es care of men." or "somebody had set open the casement. our despair displease and stop it from. "thou hast done well. or a loo . and do their business in this way which can never fail them. he. it owes its course to the disease. instead of inviting it to our relief. as "he lay with his arms out of bed. And besides. Men disturb and irritate the disease by contrary oppositions." and so Emperor Adrian continually exclaimed as he was dying. by such frivolous reasons as they are never at a loss for. they have reason to require a very favorable belief from their patients. ought to ta e anything to that purpose but in the extremest necessity. that I lately learned. Order a purge for your brain. in God's name follow it. but rather with hurt to their constitution. as well as to health." 'tis a way to ma e us hoarse. that the sun gives light to their success and the earth covers their failures. if they so please. it must be the way of living that must gently dissolve. physicians usurp to themselves: and as to ill accidents. it ought to be a very easy one." or "he was disturbed with the rattling of a coach:" {BK2_12 ^paragraph 35} "Rhedarum transitus arcto Vicorum inflexu. 'Tis a proud and uncompassionate order. and. that the crowd of physicians had illed him. whom from an ordinary cold they have thrown into a double tertian-ague. or any other cause (of which the number is infinite). it leads those that follow. The violent gripings and contest between the drug and the disease. 'Tis to much purpose we cry out "Bihore. to leave it to itself. Let it alone a little. 'Tis from the great Plato. and that no man unless he be a fool. it will there be much better employed than upon your stomach. "The ignorance of physic. according to Nicocles. or. for it would then fall into disorder. in laying the fault upon the patient. a word. he made answer. but not to hasten the matter. One as ing a Lacedaemonian what had made him live so long. A bad wrestler turned physician: "Courage. produces of good and healthful in us. purging is the worst." or "he had lain upon his left side. which is by buzzing us in the ear when the disease is more enflamed by their medicaments. if they will have the same patience that fleas and moles have. are ever to our loss. nature. They do not much care what mischief they do. must be thence derived. they either absolutely disown them. Plato said                   ." says Diogenes to him. since the combat is fought within ourselves. that of three sorts of motions which are natural to us. and will not suffer itself to be corrupted in favor of the one to the prejudice of the other's right. all the happy successes that happen to the patient." in sum. seems to them excuse sufficient wherewith to palliate their own errors. the accidents that have cured me. both their fury and physic together. being in its own nature an enemy to our health and by trouble having only access into our condition. they even ma e use of our growing worse. drags along." But they have this advantage." or "he had some disagreeable fancies in his head. indeed. and a thousand others. In earnest. and those who will not follow it. since it turns to their own profit.

" said Nicocles. having as ed how he felt himself after his physic: "I have been very cold. that their patron. and have had a great shivering upon me. indeed." said the physician. as to maintain that the most inexpert and ignorant physician is more proper for a patient who has confidence in him. than the most learned and experienced.very well. aliquem indignatus ab umbris Mortalem infernis ad lumina surgere vitae." says the sic man. was to ta e charge of his patient. boasting to Nicocles that his art was of great authority: "It is so. ut sumat:" "Terrigenam. blood drawn from under the right wing of a white pigeon. should be struc with thunder for restoring Hippolitus from death to life. "That is good. that physicians were the only men who might lie at pleasure. It was a good beginning to ma e gods and demons the authors of their science. "Truly. wea ened and subdued by sic ness and fear. the urine of a lizard. Aesop. fantastic. Ipse repertorem medicinae talis. and puffed up. at the patient's own ris and cost: but those three days being past. who send so many souls from life to death? A physician. it was to be at his own. for the first three days. domipotam. Nay. had I been of their counsel. and that accompanies all other vain. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 40} "Nam Pater omnipotens. friend.                             . pleasantly represents to us the tyrannical authority physicians usurp over poor creatures. After the third potion he as ed him again how he did: "Why. whom he is not so acquainted with. For what reason is it." says the physician. and of whom few men discover all the graces. "with being too well I am about to die. a most excellent author. herbigradam." There was a more just law in Egypt. by which the physician. when he tells us. even the very choice of most of their drugs is in some sort mysterious and divine. One of his servants coming presently after to inquire how he felt himself. Fulmine Phoebigenam Stygias detrusit ad undas. they begun well. the liver of a mole. the dung of an elephant. "as if I had a dropsy. being as ed by his physician what operation he found of the potion he had given him: "I have sweated very much." said he." said he. "That's good. et artis. and to have used a peculiar way of spea ing and writing. that the patient's belief should prepossess them with good hope and assurance of their effects and operation: a rule they hold to that degree. the destination of certain days and feasts of the year." As to what remains. and for us who have the stone (so scornfully they use us in our miseries) the excrement of rats beaten to powder." {BK2_12 ^paragraph 45} and his followers be pardoned. the left foot of a tortoise. notwithstanding that philosophy concludes it folly to persuade a man to his own good by an unintelligible way: "Ut si quis medicus imperet. and such li e trash and fooleries which rather carry a face of magical enchantment than of any solid science. Aesculapius. and supernatural arts." replied the physician. Another time. I omit the odd number of their pills. that a sic person. I find myself swollen. I would have rendered my discipline more sacred and mysterious. sanguina cassam:" It was a good rule in their art. "that can with impunity ill so many people. since our health depends upon the vanity and falsity of their promises." "That is very well. but they have not ended so." said he.

crudity. the wea ness of their arguments. failed in that they have not added to this fine beginning. Alcmaeon. the most perplexed. after these. Before the Peloponnesian war. 'tis not wisdom to abandon ourselves to the mercy of the agitation of so many contrary winds. whom they now better than I. Erasistratus. a man must be marvelously blind not to see that he runs a very great hazard in their hands. the Empirics started up. But they have. a physician famous through the intelligence he had with Messalina. as that which is intrusted with our health and conservation. in the exuberance or defect of our bodily strength. Chrysippus overthrew. who first brought all                             . in the inequality of the elements of which the body is composed. He was a much wiser man of their tribe. who of old gave it as a rule. there was no great tal of this science. in the invisible atoms of the pores. Hippocrates brought it into repute. whatever he established. Erasistratus. if he happen to have success.the superstition of gathering their simples at certain hours. when the credit of these began a little to decay. is. the most uncertain. one single man's default can bring no great scandal upon the art of medicine. than their patient's interest." There is no great danger in our mista ing the height of the sun. after that. They ought to be satisfied with the perpetual disagreement which is found in the opinions of the principal masters and ancient authors of this science. who declares upon this subject. overthrew what Chrysippus had written. when there are many. full of hatred. and consequently their profit. and in the quality of the air we breathe. for by the reason of this it falls out that their irresolution. forasmuch as they oftener do hurt than good. for if he do nothing to purpose. the sharpness of their disputes. came in vogue. and self-consideration. in the abundance. and ma e it manifest to us that they therein more consider their own reputation. coming to be discovered by every one. Who ever saw one physician approve of another's prescription. who too a quite contrary way to the ancients in the management of this art. who abolished and condemned all that had been held till his time. without discovering to the vulgar the controversies and various judgments which they still nourish and continue among themselves. There is a certain friend of theirs. as I said. Asclepiades. that only one physician should underta e a sic person. divinations and foundations. Herophilus set another sort of practice on foot. Aristotle's grandson. or the fraction of some astronomical computation: but here. the glory will be great. and after that those of Vectius Valens. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 50} Will you have one example of the ancient controversy in physic? Herophilus lodges the original cause of all diseases in the humors. in their turn the opinions first of Themiso. and Hippocrates lodges it in the spirits. then. where no profane person should have admission. on the contrary. and overthrew. in the blood of the arteries. no more than in the secret ceremonies of Aesculapius. jealousy. or adding something to it? by which they sufficiently betray their tric s. Diocles. which is only nown to men well read. without ta ing something away. and corruption of the nourishment we ta e. and then of Musa. whereas. and agitated with the greatest mutations. they at every turn bring a disrepute upon their calling. and that so austere and very wise countenance and carriage which Pliny himself so much derides. which Asclepiades in turn stood up against. the empire of physic in Nero's time was established in Thessalus. and. where our whole being is concerned. by ill luc . "that the most important science in practice among us. the ma ing their meetings and consultations more religious and secret. Strato. this man's doctrine was refuted by Crinas of Marseilles.

we are in but a scurvy condition. and believe that it marvelously distempers a sic person at a time when he has so much need of repose. and sought out at the hazard of so long and dangerous a voyage? Since these ancient mutations in physic. if the mista e of a physician be so dangerous. there was an epidemical disease. do they set upon our cabbage and parsley? for who would dare to contemn things so far fetched. a physician of the same city of Marseilles. and Argentier. but moreover the usage of hot baths. and with great care to be often bathed and purged: it happened that the Moor was nothing amended in his tawny complexion. so light and nice. and the moon. though there were nothing else in the case. he made men bathe in cold water. by those who sputter Latin. very dangerous. and with so much aversion. Now. sleeping. when they ma e a mista e that mista e of theirs would do us no harm. that had been generally. he confesses. have physicians. as those. for it is almost impossible but he must often fall into those mista es: he had need of too many parts. that one who had bought a Morisco slave. Aesop tells a story. no more than we do the drugs we ourselves gather. And if even those of the best operation in some measure offend us. but the whole contexture and rules of the body of physic. in what a condition the poor patient must be. considerations. though it did us no good. for the most part. there have been infinite others down to our own times. and dear purchase. mutations entire and universal. we do not easily accept the medicine we understand. If we were even assured that. and. as I am told. that office was only performed by Gree s and foreigners. even in winter. caused him to enter into a course of physic. that raged in the towns about us: the storm being over which had swept away an infinite number of men. upon better thoughts. At this rate. And moreover. but he wholly lost his former health. and China wood.medicinal operations under the Ephemerides and motions of the stars. produced by Paracelsus. believing that his blac complexion was accidental in him. that I thence conclude a very little error in the dispensation of their drugs may do a great deal of mischief. rightly to level his design: he must now the sic                             . their authors hold that there is no physic that has not something hurtful in it. how great a value must we imagine. a man who not only controverted all the ancients methods of physic. that the letting blood in that disease was the principal cause of so many mishaps. and circumstances. sarsaparilla. If the nations whence we fetch our guaiacum. and reduced eating. if we but consider the occasions upon which they usually ground the cause of our diseases. and for so many ages in common use. I am of opinion. Moreover. and drin ing to hours that were most pleasing to Mercury. for. as a very great physician says. one of the most famous physicians of all the country. it were a reasonable bargain to venture the ma ing ourselves better without any danger of being made worse. his authority was soon after supplanted by Charinus. and occasioned by the ill usage of his former master. How often do we see physicians impute the death of their patients to one another? I remember that some years ago. not only alter one recipe. presently after published a boo upon that subject. for they. rarity. Fioravanti. and plunged his sic patients in the natural waters of streams. for example. by the same recommendation of strangeness. accusing all others of ignorance and imposition who have practiced before them. that to those who loathe the taste of physic. it must needs be a dangerous and prejudicial endeavor to force it down at so incommodious a time. I leave you to judge. wherein. and for the most part mortal. as 'tis now among us French. No Roman till Pliny's time had ever vouchsafed to practice physic. what must those do that are totally misapplied? For my own part. they are.

age. a bishop. and has less to trouble his head with than the tailor who underta es all. without scattering its operations by the way. of ta ing fox for marten? In the diseases I have had. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 55} Even the very promises of physic are incredible in themselves. to beget a just and perfect symmetry. in whose bladder. to suffer himself to be cut. that of their ingredients one will heat the stomach. as the heat of the liver. this will dry the brain. having been earnestly pressed by the majority of the physicians in town. God nows with how great difficulty most of these things are to be understood: for (for example) how shall a physician find out the true sign of the disease. for. and opened. A gentleman at Paris was lately cut for the stone by order of the physicians. every disease being capable of an infinite number of indications? How many doubts and controversies have they among themselves upon the interpretation of urines? otherwise. and their influences: he must now in the disease. whence should the continual debates we see among them about the nowledge of the disease proceed? how could we excuse the error they so oft fall into. and he must now how rightly to proportion and mix them together. is it not a ind of madness to imagine or to hope that these differing virtues should separate themselves from one another in this mixture and confusion. and the coldness of the stomach. that I conclude surgery to be much more certain. Of all this bundle of things having mixed up a potion. 'tis enough to destroy us. and so goes less upon conjecture. his humors.                             . the country. to perform so many various errands? I should very much fear that they would either lose or change their tic ets. and 'tis thence. figure. if among so many springs there be but any one out of order. the situation of the planets. upon their word. lungs. and dispensation. because I love to introduce examples wherein I am myself concerned. to clothe us. actions. his temperament. nay. of the nature of the place. and as. the weight. the power of wor ing.person's complexion. who was my particular good friend. his very thoughts and imaginations. by reason that it sees and feels what it does. and the other will cool the liver. even to the place to the service of which it is designed. by which to examine our brains. inclinations. when he was dead. by reason that it is in some sort palpable. to which also. he must be assured of the external circumstances. they will needs persuade us. They are least excusable for any error in this disease. wherein if there be the least error. and are so much the better fitted. these faculties must corrupt. in this liquid confusion. in matter of diet. I never found three of one opinion: which I instance. when the ma ing up of this medicine is intrusted to the s ill and fidelity of still another. I used my interest in persuade him. it appeared that he had no malady but in the idneys. that will moisten the lungs. though there were ever so little difficulty in the case. in the drugs. And who can imagine but that. being accordingly so cut. having to provide against divers and contrary accidents that often afflict us at one and the same time. prognostics. whom he consulted. seeing that each of them meddles only with his own business. to whose mercy we again abandon our lives? As we have doublet and breeches ma ers. the quality of the air and season. in the same place. and. nay even to the bladder. by its own occult property. whereas the physicians have no speculum matricis. the causes. one has its commission to go directly to the idneys. and disturb one another's quarters. there was found no more stone than in the palm of his hand. affections. confound and spoil one another? And is not the danger still more. and liver. and that have almost a necessary relation. distinct trades. and critical days. and is to retain its power and virtue through all those turns and meanders.

harden. Let them. instead of which if one coo should underta e the whole service. it is good not to ma e water often. that obstruction. and that the entire government of this microcosm is more than they are able to underta e. lest they should put the patient into a fever. They have the li e uniformity in the counsels they give us for the regiment of life. no longer exclaim against those who in this trouble of sic ness suffer themselves to be gently guided by their own appetite                                   . They counterpoise their own divinations with the present evils. tires. It is good to bathe frequently in hot water. they help forward the matter proper to create the gravel toward the reins. and convey that downward which begins to harden and gather in the reins. its particular wor man. and wea ens the reins. when the body and soul are in perpetual moving and action. for that part was more properly and with less confusion cared for. this for soups and potages. For those who are ta ing baths it is most healthful to eat little at night. by reason that. As to the variety and wea ness of the rationale of this profession. coming to stop them. for that opens the passages and helps to evacuate gravel. if the medicine happen to meet with anything too large to be carried through all the narrow passages it must pass to be expelled. it is good to ma e water often. aperitive medicines are proper for a man subject to the stone. While they were afraid of stopping a dysentery. for their better convenience and to the end they may be better served. they injure both with their dissentient and tumultuary drugs. so also as to the cure of our maladies. which by their own propension being apt to seize it. while it is not yet perfect. they illed me a friend. and because they will not cure the brain to the prejudice of the stomach. 'tis not to be imagined but that a great deal of what has been conveyed thither must remain behind: moreover. but leave the office of digestion to the night. on the other hand it is better to eat little at dinner. The Egyptians had reason to reject this general trade of physician. and petrify the matter so disposed. as we see by experience that a torrent that runs with force washes the ground it rolls over much cleaner than the course of a slow and tardy stream. will occasion a certain and most painful death. who was worth more than the whole pac of them put together. and to divide the profession: to each disease. forasmuch as that relaxes and mollifies the places where the gravel and stone lie. it is good to have often to do with women. that for roasting. by reason that opening and dilating the passages they helped forward the slimy matter whereof gravel and stone are engendered.great persons. so. Thus do they juggle and cant in all their discourses at our expense. whatever it is. seeing the person loo ed to nothing else. being stirred by these aperitive things and thrown into those narrow passages. aperitive things are dangerous for a man subject to the stone. they are more manifest in it than in any other art. it is also ill by reason that this application of external heat helps the reins to ba e. to each part of the body. and they cannot give me one proposition against which I cannot erect a contrary of equal force. because it heats. it is also very ill to have often to do with women. then. and not to oppress the stomach so soon after the other labor. for we experimentally see that in letting it lie long in the bladder we give it time to settle the sediment which will concrete into a stone. for the heavy excrements it carries along with it will not be voided without violence. opening and dilating the passages. he could not so well perform it. have coo s for the different offices. to the end that the waters they are to drin the next morning may have a better operation upon an empty stomach. Ours are not aware that he who provides for all. which will much better perform it than the day. that it hinder not the operation of the waters. provides for nothing.

and is yet in many. help digestion. but that on the contrary. of bathing every day. There are infinite other varieties of customs in every country. which I have the most and at various seasons frequented. and particular rules and methods in using them. where there was the best conveniency of lodging. of which the infinite crowd of people of all sorts and complexions who repair thither I ta e to be a sufficient warranty. those of Plombieres. either the head. and with these bathe an hour in the morning. Here we are ordered to wal to digest it. they are natural and simple. and as the Germans have a particular practice generally to use cupping and scarification in the bath. I have seen in my travels almost all the famous baths of Christendom. as the baths of Bagneres in France. For this reason I have hitherto chosen to go to those of the most pleasant situation. I have found all the reports of such operations that have been spread abroad in those places ill-grounded and false. there we are ept in bed after ta ing it till it be wrought off. yet I have seldom nown any who have been made worse by those waters. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 60} The poets put what they would say with greater emphasis and grace. and believe that we suffer no little inconveniences in our health by having left off the custom that was generally observed. witness these two epigrams:                                 . Every nation has particular opinions touching their use. and commit themselves to the common fortune. which are certain little streams of this hot water brought through pipes. Drin ing them is not at all received in Germany. though the least depending upon art of all others. By this. but they may help some light indisposition. which I would dissuade every one from doing. those of Lucca in Tuscany.and the advice of nature. and commonly drin the water mixed with some other drugs to ma e it wor the better. those of Baden in Switzerland. in former times. and of the wal s and exercises to which the amenity of those places invite us. our stomachs and feet having continually hot cloths applied to them all the while. where they drin nine days. so the Italians have their doccie. having more narrowly than ordinary inquired into it. the Germans bathe for all diseases. provision. on the frontiers of Germany and Lorraine. He who does not bring along with him so much cheerfulness as to enjoy the pleasure of the company he will there meet. or rather there is no manner of resemblance to one another. they bathe at least thirty. and secondly. and all of them. according to what I have seen. and for some years past have begun to ma e use of them myself: for I loo upon bathing as generally wholesome. and a man cannot honestly deny but that they beget a better appetite. almost with li e effect. for a month together. which at least carry no danger with them. or prevent some threatening alteration. has yet a great share of the confusion and uncertainty everywhere else manifest in the profession. fortune has in the first place rendered them not at all unacceptable to my taste. and I cannot imagine but that we are much the worse by having our limbs crusted and our pores stopped with dirt. and as much in the afternoon. stomach. will doubtless lose the best and surest part of their effect. in Italy. though they may do us no good. or any other part where the evil lies. and will lie dabbling in the water almost from sun to sun. and do in some sort revive us. and although I have not there observed any extraordinary and miraculous effects. almost by all nations. and especially those of Della Villa. you may see that this little part of physic to which I have only submitted. and company. if we do not go too late and in too wea a condition. They have not the virtue to raise men from desperate and inveterate diseases. and those that believe them (as people are willing to be gulled in what they desire) deceived in them. And as to the drin ing of them.

In the tail of this corruption. no advocate was ever retained to give them counsel. Tam subitae mortis causam. or any little cold. to ma e his complaint to the royal judges thereabout. by means of a physician. and manners distinct from other people. that. They swear till then they never perceived the evening air to be offensive to the head. The other is. there happened another. they find themselves oppressed with a legion of unaccustomed diseases. The Baron de Caupene. as 'tis said of those of the Val d'Angrougne: they lived a peculiar sort of life. quamvis sit Deus atque lapis:" and the other: "Lotus nobiscum est. and of worse consequence. hilaris coenavit. till. This fellow. to which they submitted."Alcon hesterno signum Jovis attigit: ille. jussus transferri. and so he went on from one to another. have between us the advowson of a benefice of great extent. and imposthumes. in the memory of man having a mind spurred on with a noble ambition. the first pran he played was to advise a friend of his. They avoided all alliances and traffic with the outer world. to ta e strange mixtures. liver. ex aede vetusta. since this use of physic. This is the first of my stories. nor was ever any of them seen to go a-begging. though it were but for a cough. received from father to son. their fashions. requiris? {BK2_12 ^paragraph 70} In somnis medicum viderat Hermocratem:" upon which I will relate two stories. began to disdain their ancient customs. and intestines. was hurtful. who falling in love with one of their daughters. too it into his head. and that the winds of autumn were more unwholesome than those of spring. This little state had continued from all antiquity in so happy a condition. This man first of all began to teach them the names of fevers. hearing that the blood of a he-goat was with many in very great                 . having acquired such dignity. et idem Inventus mane est mortuus Andragoras. It is with the inhabitants of this angle. no stranger ever called in to compose their differences. and instead of garlic. one of them. when they were hot. and to buzz into the people's ears the pomp of the other parts of the nation. vim patitur medici. a science till then utterly un nown to them. and that they perceive a general decay in their ancient vigor. with which they were wont to cure all manner of diseases how painful or extreme soever. whom somebody had offended by sawing off the horns of one of his goats. as they say. they say. made him at last a brave village notary. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 65} Effertur. at the foot of our mountains. clothes. to bring his name into credit and reputation. Faustine. called Lahontan. and having put him to learn to write in a neighboring town. that to drin . to ma e one of his sons something more than ordinary. in Chalosse. that no neighboring judge was ever put to the trouble of inquiring into their doings. he taught them. and began to ma e a trade not only of their health but of their lives. that they might not corrupt the purity of their own government. the seat of the heart. had a mind to marry her and to live among them. and I. colds. ruled and governed by certain particular laws and usages. and their lives are cut shorter by the half. Quamvis marmoreus. Ecce hodie. without other constraint than the reverence to custom. till he had spoiled and confounded all. that before I was afflicted with the stone.

and most worthy to be beloved. How many do we see among them of my humor. because naturally he mortally hates the taste of it. I give them leave to command me to eep myself warm. according to the diversity of operations: wherefore it is very li ely that there was some petrifying quality in all the parts of this goat. It was not so much for fear of the future. not according to the precept for their necessity (for to this passage may be opposed another of the prophet reproving King Asa for having recourse to a physician). by inquiry of people accustomed to open these animals. and so as to all other things. Lycurgus ordered wine for the sic Spartans: Why? because they abominated the drin ing it when they were well. 'Tis li ely these are stones of the same nature with ours: and if so. using the same recipe in fifty several diseases. and live a quite contrary sort of life to what they prescribe others? What is this but flatly to abuse our simplicity? for their own                                               . both of greater and of less dignity than theirs. had a mind. though one part contributes more to the wor than another. where. hard and firm without. 'tis their art I inveigh against. that the women store up such little trumperies for the service of the people. that rattled against one another among what he had eaten. and such a recipe as they will not ta e themselves. When I am sic I send for them if they be near. and for myself. and does not thence alter its wonted virtue. it must needs be a very vain hope in those who have the stone. and of infallible operation. so that they appeared to be hollow. the other two something less. but because it falls out in mine. and yet triumph when they happen to be successful. Many callings. having nown many very good men of that profession. and loo ed upon as a celestial manna rained down upon these latter ages for the good and preservation of the lives of men. that the coo had found two or three great balls in his paunch. have no other foundation or support than public abuse. but. and spotted and mixed all over with various dead colors. and having heard it spo en of by men of understanding for an admirable drug. I was curious to have all his entrails brought before me. to extract their cure from the blood of a beast that was himself about to die of the same disease. in my perfect health. a neighbor of mine. for most men do the same. one was perfectly round. who have ever thought myself subject to all the accidents that can befall other men. having caused the s in that enclosed them to be cut. are men of a liberal diet. and some one came and told me. As to what remains I honor physicians. but for themselves. to order me white wine or claret. I do not attac them. and therefore gave order to have a goat fed at home according to the recipe: for he must be ta en in the hottest month of all summer. it is rather to be believed than nothing is engendered in a body but by the conspiracy and communication of all the parts. and of the bigness of an ordinary ball. I came home by chance the very day he was to be illed.esteem. and pay them as others do. I. that I was curious in this experiment. as it does in many other families. I find. and do not much blame them for ma ing their advantage of our folly. as seeming not to be arrived at their full growth. and to appoint lee s or lettuce for my broth. who despise ta ing physic themselves. and must only have aperitive herbs given him to eat. as light as sponges. that it is a rare and unusual accident. For to say that the blood does not participate of this contagion. as a gentleman. as to the rest. ta es it as an excellent medicine in his fever. only to have their company. I now very well that I do nothing for them in so doing. the whole mass wor s together. which are indifferent to my palate and custom. of an imperfect roundness. to furnish myself with this miracle. because I naturally love to do it. and white wine to drin . there tumbled out three great lumps. because sharpness and strangeness are incidents of the very essence of physic.

that so blind us. "What should I do then?" As if impatience were of itself a better remedy than patience. Is there any one of those who have suffered themselves to be persuaded into this miserable subjection. upon some other account. But in most of their other experiments wherein they affirm they have been conducted by fortune. I do not now where he would begin his trial. from the experiments they have made. What Homer and Plato said of the Egyptians. I am content to receive (for I meddle not with miracles). We do little better. those they pretend to have acquired by the inspiration of some demon. as we also do in those that physicians pretend to have been directed to by the example of some beasts. I was the other day in company where some of my fraternity told us of a new sort of pills made up of a hundred and odd ingredients. he will yet find himself as perplexed in his second operation. that before he can attain the certainty of the point                             . if I were to ta e physic. and was a singular consolation. for what roc could withstand so great a battery? And yet I hear from those who have made trial of it. I should say above two-thirds. and a violent and indiscreet desire of a present cure. wherein there must be a very pliant and easy belief. if they do no good. Suppose man loo ing round about him upon the infinite number of things. and also the proofs which are drawn from things that. 'tis pure cowardice that ma es our belief so pliable and easy to be imposed upon: and yet most men do not so much believe as they acquiesce and permit. impatience of disease. and according to my humor. often fall into use among us. they will do no harm. as if in the wool. there has accidentally some occult dessicative property been found out of curing ibed heels. plants. animals. In this example we find the means and a very li ely guide and conduct to this experience. wherewith we are wont to clothe ourselves. for I hear them find fault and complain as well as we. or occult property of simples. and consequently they would accommodate their practice to their rules. consist in the quintessence. there has been found out some aperitive operation. there is not a man among any of them who does not boast of some rare recipe. In such proofs. if he will let him. may be said of all nations. being in humanity and civility obliged to inquire of their condition. The greatest part. it made us very merry. who does not equally surrender himself to all sorts of impostures? who does not give up himself to the mercy of whoever has the impudence to promise him a cure? The Babylonians carried their sic into the public square. if they did not themselves now how false these are. but they resolve at last. metals. There are so many maladies and so many circumstances presented to him.lives and health are no less dear to them than ours are to us. the physician was the people. that a man happened to be cured of a leprosy by drin ing wine out of a vessel into which a viper had crept by chance. or as if in the radish we eat for food. that they were all physicians. for quintessence is no other than a quality of which we cannot by our reason find out the cause. every one who passed by. I would sooner choose to ta e theirs than any other. that the least atom of gravel will not stir for't. and though his fancy should fix him upon an el 's horn. because at least. and who will not venture it upon his neighbor. before I have added a word or two more concerning the assurance they give us of the infallibility of their drugs. I cannot ta e my hand from the paper. and to have had no other guide than chance. of the medicinal virtues. I find the progress of this information incredible. gave some advice according to his own experience. of which we can have no other instruction than use and custom. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 75} 'Tis the fear of death and of pain. there is not so simple a woman whose chatterings and drenches we do not ma e use of. Galen reports.

without putting you to any greater trouble. the many seasons in winter. but merely by the sole motion of fortune. what is epilepsy. the many ages in age. human sense will be at the end of its lesson. among this infinity of things. It were an idle humor to essay. in God's name. with my own nowledge of them. to offer myself to them by a new recommendation. nor divine inspirations. or touched that day? or by virtue of his grandmother's prayers? And. I desire you should continue the favor of your friendship to me. and as these trifles may one day fall into your hands. by the same qualities by which it was acquired. regular. how many times was it repeated. the many complexions in a melancholy person. is against reason: it were necessary that human nature should have deputed and culled them out. three doctors. If I were one of those to whom the world could owe commendation. in a finger. more thic than long. moreover. let their praises come quic and crowding about me. "I am not at all ambitious that any one should love and esteem me more dead than living.to which the perfection of his experience should arrive. and this long beadroll of haps and concurrences strung anew by chance to conclude a certain rule? And when the rule is concluded. you found me at wor upon this chapter. but to present me to your memory such as I naturally am. have some light in this. I would give out of it one-half to have the other in hand. where you may find them again when you shall please to refresh your memory. directed neither by argument. and that they were declared our comptrollers by express letters of attorney. that may peradventure continue some years. who was more solicitous to extend his renown to posterity than to render himself acceptable to men of his own time. and a hundred others. nay. had this experiment been perfect. have made contrary experiments? We might. And after the cure is performed. I would not have done it: for I require nothing more of these writings. it must be by a perfectly artificial. should lord it over all man ind. and when the sweet sound can no longer pierce my ears. were all the judgments and arguments of men nown to us: but that three witnesses. and let them cease. conjecture. but yet common. "TO MADAME DE DURAS. the many celestial mutations in the conjunction of Venus and Saturn. The same conditions and faculties you have been pleased to frequent and receive with much more honor and courtesy than they deserve. and before he can.The last time you honored me with a visit. I pray you? Of so many millions. among so many diseases. by whom. find out what this horn is. and being. now that I am about to forsa e the commerce of men. how can he assure himself that it was not because the disease had arrived at its period or an effect of chance? or the operation of something else that he had eaten. more full than durable. example. You will there find the same air and mien you have observed in his conversation. neither are they worth it. peradventure. The humor of Tiberius is ridiculous. I would put together (but without alteration or change) in one solid body. I ma e no account of the                       . or some days. the many nations in the French. and methodical fortune. drun . after I am gone. in all this. the many parts in man's body. I would also that they testify in how great honor the author will ta e any favor you shall please to show them. there are but three men who ta e upon them to record their experiments: must fortune needs just hit one of these? What if another. and though I could have borrowed some better or more favorable garb than my own. {BK2_12 ^paragraph 80} "MADAME:.

) They have a third way of saving their own credit. who being as ed how he did: "you may judge. I should not have dared to ma e so bold with the mysteries of physic. I thin there are of these among the old Latin writers but two. in his economics. among other things. Pericles. in bed. let him ma e it appear in his conduct. and all Gramontins. considering the esteem that you and so many others have of it. it has no resemblance to my better condition. my studies. by recommending their patients. As a Spartan. the better to divert you. and of suffering himself to be so equipped. I would rather choose to be a good coo . I dare not be responsible for my future constancy. It                                         . if any one as me how I do. This. in the management of his affairs." {BK2_12 ^paragraph 85} It was. "by these. I will be elsewhere than in paper: my art and industry have been ever directed to render myself good for something.goods I could not employ in the service of my life. at table. which begins to taste of the lees. as Pericles did. and not to lay up a stoc for my posterity. they cut its throat. Good God! Madame. had I not one already to serve me. others to the hot baths. Those whom I see ma e good boo s in ill breeches. By which he would infer. in his courtships. but then. in his ordinary discourses. but is much lapsed from my former vigor and cheerfulness. I have made it my whole business to frame my life: this has been my trade and my wor . how should I hate the reputation of being a pretty fellow at writing. I dare not promise but that I may one day be so much a fool as to commit my life and death to the mercy and government of physicians. which is. they have a pretty device to save themselves. that when they are at the end of their rope. "You may judge by this. And I am so far from expecting to gain any new reputation by these follies. is enough: I hope you will give me leave to return to my discourse. some to vows and miracles. of ridding their hands of us and securing themselves from the reproaches we might cast in their teeth of our little amendment. whom they have teased and tormented with their drugs and diets to no purpose. I may fall into such a frenzy. (Be not angry. madame. to send us to the better air of some other country. to teach me to do. and not to write. twits them with this. Pliny. growing faded and withered: I am toward the bottom of the barrel. madame. Pliny and Celsus: if these ever fall into your hands. "As to the rest. if they would have been ruled by me. which are under the protection of your house. you will find that they spea much more rudely of their art than I do: I but pinch it. had I not had encouragement from their own authors. that I shall thin I come off pretty well if I lose nothing by them of that little I had before. I have coveted understanding for the service of my present and real conveniences. from which I have so far digressed. Such as I am. that he must needs be very sic when he was reduced to a necessity of having recourse to such idle and vain fopperies. I may also answer." showing my hand clutching six drachms of opium. I am less a writer of boo s than anything else. he spea s not of those in our parts. and if I was as ed the same question. He who has anything of value in him. when they have had us so long in their hands that they have not one more invention left wherewith to amuse us." says he. and an ass and an inanity in everything else! Yet I had rather be a fool in anything than to have made so ill a choice wherein to employ my talent. and his quarrels: in play. should first have mended their breeches. madame. whether he had rather be a good orator or a good soldier. I thin ." showing some little scrolls of parchment he had tied about his nec and arms. For besides that this dead and mute painting will ta e from my natural being.

that I may peradventure contradict myself. all things therein are incessantly moving. I must accommodate my history to the hour: I may presently change. OF REPENTANCE OTHERS form man. unli e: the world eternally turns round. as Demades said. Authors communicate themselves to the                           . and. 'Tis a counterpart of various and changeable accidents. and more in souls than bodies. but also by intention. that I should exchange so solid a pleasure as health. Could my soul once ta e footing. as it falls out. Even constancy itself is no other but a slower and more languishing motion. I never contradict the truth. but from day to day. not a passing from one age to another. great. the most universal quality is diversity. two opinions ali e. I have ta en the pains to plead this cause. I have derived from my ancestors. it may very well be concluded that there is a dreadful fever in my mind. and the pyramids of Egypt. I do not hate opinions contrary to my own. sometimes contrary: whether it be that I am then another self. I do not paint its being. I am so far from being angry to see a discrepancy between mine and other men's judgments. or two grains. 'tis always tottering and reeling by a natural giddiness: I ta e it as it is at the instant I consider it. {BK2_13 XIII. that they who shall see me so obstinate in my resolution against all exhortations and menaces that shall be given me. I only report him: and represent a particular one. as to judge it to be any motive of glory. I have not a heart too tumorous and windy. in the world. Now. Give me health. a little to bac and support the natural aversion to drugs and the practice of physic. and from rendering myself unfit for the society of men. but. however. as the people say. in God's name! Such as love physic. and also. all moral philosophy may as well be applied to a common and private life. or any one so ill-natured. may not thin 'tis mere obstinacy in me. and convincing considerations. if it cost him three swinging fits of the stone. I would not essay but resolve: but it is always learning and ma ing trial. if once fear and impatience get such an advantage over me. as to one of richer composition: every man carries the entire form of human condition. ill fashioned enough. 'tis not. I paint its passage. that on the contrary (the most general way that nature has followed being variety. I propose a life ordinary and without lustre: 'tis all one. not only by fortune. for an airy and imaginary pleasure: glory. when my infirmity shall press hardest upon me. both by the public motion and their own. and whom.will be a very evident sign of a violent sic ness: my judgment will be very much out of order. from seven to seven years. And there never were. from being of another sense and party than mine. or that I ta e subjects by other circumstances and considerations: so it is. the earth. I should certainly ma e something else than what he is: but that's past recalling. from minute to minute. Certainly. the roc s of Caucasus. I cannot fix my object. and more susceptible of forms) I find it much more rare to see our humors and designs jump and agree. forasmuch as they are of a more supple substance. is too dear bought by a man of my humor. which I understand indifferently. may also have good. though the features of my picture alter and change. even that of the four sons of Aymon. no more than two hairs. and of irresolute imaginations. if I had to model him anew. to the end it may not be a mere stupid and inconsiderate aversion. but have a little more form. or. for it would be a strange ambition to see to gain honor by an action my gardener or my groom can perform as well as I.

I should pretend to recommend myself to the public nowledge? And is it also reason that I should produce to the world. or a lawyer. Malice suc s up the greatest part of its own venom. I do not teach. than I what I have underta en. that never any man treated of a subject he better understood and new. where art and handling have so much credit and authority. and that a sound judgment does not accuse. or some such thing. A learned man is not learned in all things: but a sufficient man is sufficient throughout. and writes rare matter. Vice leaves repentance in the soul. crude and simple effects of nature. li e an ulcer in the flesh. by reason it springs within. {BK2_13 ^paragraph 5} There is no vice that is absolutely a vice which does not offend. here they cannot: who touches the one. that I very rarely repent. which is always scratching and lacerating itself. not as the conscience of an angel. he who does now him. and that I deserved to have been assisted by a better memory. To perfect it. I have this. even to ignorance itself. a poet. but it begets that of repentance.people by some especial and extrinsic mar . and poisons itself. they are in the right who say that it is chiefly begotten by stupidity and ignorance: so hard is it to imagine that a man can now without abhorring it. and of a wea nature to boot? Is it not to build a wall without stone or bric . methin s. or that of a horse. I hold for                                                             . I spea truth. which is so much the more grievous. for there is in it so manifest a deformity and inconvenience. that never any man penetrated farther into his matter. that being so particular in my way of living. touches the other. purely and simply referring myself to the common and accepted beliefs for the resolution. Elsewhere men may commend or censure the wor . for. the first of any. If the world find fault that I spea too much of myself. I need bring nothing but fidelity to the wor . which I often see elsewhere. that. will more wrong himself than me. if I can obtain only thus much from the public approbation. for reason effaces all other grief and sorrows. I shall be happy beyond my desert. I. and I dare a little the more. as the cold and heat of fevers are more sharp than those that only stri e upon the outward s in. without reference to the wor man. But is it reason. I find fault that they do not so much as thin of themselves. and that is there. and more indiscretion of tal ing of a man's self. as Michel de Montaigne. to write boo s without learning and without art? The fancies of music are carried on by art. gives me all the satisfaction I desire. not one of ceremony. but as the conscience of a man. here my boo and I go hand in hand together. not so much as I would. according to discipline. at least. that I spea inquiring and doubting. Be pleased here to excuse what I often repeat. and the most pure and sincere that is anywhere to be found. nor better and more distinctly sifted the parts and sequences of it. that the wor and the artificer contradict one another: "Can a man of such sober conversation have written so foolish a boo ?" Or "Do so learned writings proceed from a man of so wea conversation?" He who tal s at a very ordinary rate. but a true and real submission. mine by chance. 'tis to say that his capacity is borrowed and not his own. peradventure. That cannot fall out here. but as much as I dare. custom allows to age more liberty of prating. had I had it. I only relate. as to ma e men of understanding perceive that I was capable of profiting by nowledge. not as a grammarian. always adding this clause. He who shall judge of it without nowing him. as I grow older. nor ever more exactly and fully arrived at the end he proposed to himself. and that in this I am the most understanding man alive: secondly. by my universal being. and that my conscience is satisfied with itself.

Virtutis et vitiorum grave ipsius conscientiae pondus est: qua sublata. jacent omnia. have made such. if authorized by law and custom. or ta en his money.vices (but every one according to its proportion). who live private lives. but it cannot supply itself with this complacency and satisfaction. but those which by a long habit are rooted in a strong and vigorous will are not subject to contradiction. To ground the recompense of virtuous actions upon the approbation of others is too uncertain and unsafe a foundation. and have lived upon what is my own. which is lodged in us as in its own proper habitation. and according to that. and to say to himself: "Whoever could penetrate into my soul would not there find me guilty either of the affliction or ruin of any one. though false and erroneous. ought chiefly to have settled a pattern within ourselves by which to try our actions. or of revenge or envy. loyal and devout: others see you not. but extend them not by any other rule than my own. both in their reproaches and praises. yet have I not plundered any Frenchman's goods. and this natural rejoicing is very beneficial to us.. and a generous boldness that accompanies a good conscience: a soul daringly vicious may. I have often found so much false measure. indeed. not only those which reason and nature condemn. One may disown and retract the vices that surprise us. or failure of my word. arm itself with security. either of their own voluntary motion. which to a well-composed soul surpasses not only in utility. especially in so corrupt and ignorant an age as this. Repentance is no other but a recanting of the will and an opposition to our fancies. that I had not done much amiss. not exposed to any other view than our own. and to which we are hurried by passions. but those also which the opinion of men. rather to have done ill. sometimes to encourage and sometimes to correct ourselves." These testimonies of a good conscience please.. and apply myself more to these than to any other rules: I do. and the only reward that we can never fail of. but in indness all other offices of friendship: I have always received them with the most open arms. than to have done well according to their notions. There is li ewise no virtue which does not rejoice a well-descended nature. restrain my actions according to others. I have my laws and my judicature to judge of myself. It ma es this person disown his former virtue and continency: -                       . peradventure. but. 'Tis no little satisfaction to feel a man's self preserved from the contagion of so depraved an age. I now not what." But the saying that repentance immediately follows the sin seems not to have respect to sin in its high estate. or any offense against the public laws. mores sunt. according to the descriptions of honor I daily see every one ma e of himself. and only guess at you by uncertain conjectures. You yourself only now if you are cowardly and cruel." Some of my friends have at times schooled and scolded me with great sincerity and plainness. to say the truth. congratulation in well doing that gives us an inward satisfaction. there is a ind of. "Quae fuerant vitia. rely not therefore upon their opinions. or by me entreated to it as to an office. in war as well as in peace. neither have I set any man to wor without paying him his hire. and though the license of the time permits and teaches every one so to do. wherein the good opinion of the vulgar is injurious: upon whom do you rely to show you what is recommendable? God defend me from being an honest man. or of innovation or disturbance. both of courtesy and ac nowledgment. We. but stic to your own: "Tuo tibi judicio est utendum. which lead us which way they please. and do not so much see your nature as your art.

the further off I am read from my own home. and less remar able. "I will give you. "six thousand to ma e it so that everybody may see into every room. he will answer. to his very door. and where there is no study nor artifice. and falls so much the lower by how much he was higher exalted: in himself within.?" 'Tis an exact life that maintains itself in due order in private. it will require a vivid and well-chosen judgment to perceive it in these low and private actions. I had rather have a great deal less in hand. for three thousand crowns. To enter a breach. that order is a dull. where all is concealed. for which we are accountable to none. to the end that the people and the gods themselves might pry into his most private actions. elsewhere they purchase me. they loo upon it as a drollery to see me in print. the better I am esteemed.{BK2_13 ^paragraph 10} "Quae mens est hodie.there's the point. no one was ever a prophet. See this functionary whom the people escort in state. And though all should be regular there. and with himself. and do not expose myself to the world upon any other account than my present share. somber virtue. conduct an embassy. setting forth the excellent state of a private family. than that of Socrates in his mean and obscure employment. The next degree is to be so in his house. retired lives. pay. says the experience of histories: 'tis the same in things of naught." 'Tis honorably recorded of Agesilaus. he puts off the pageant with his robe." said he. not to give a man's self the lie is more rare and hard. to be regular. says Aristotle. Every one may juggle his part. Such a one has been a miracle to the world. The virtue of the soul does not consist in flying high. few men have been admired by their own domestics. are actions of renown: to reprehend. and in this low example the image of a greater is to be seen. more out of glory than conscience. cur eadem non puero fuit? Vel cur his animis incolumes non redeunt genae. Who shall as the one what he can do. that he is abroad. Upon this it is that they lay their foundation who conceal themselves present and living. And therefore Bias. and legitimate science than the other. by his own virtue and temper. and gently and justly converse with a man's own family. in whom neither his wife nor servant has ever seen anything so much as remar able. is said to the contrary. not to relax. The shortest way to arrive at glory. he will say. to put his house in such a posture that his neighbours should no longer have the same inspection into it as before. I can easily conceive Socrates in the place of Alexander. and in his ordinary actions. to which may be added. sell. I am fain to purchase printers in Guienne. weighty. for fear of the laws and report of men. By which means. with wonder and applause. serve virtue more painfully and highly. and in his own bosom. to the masons who offered him. but in             . hate. but in his own country." And it was a worthy saying of Julius Drusus. In my country of Gascony. to obtain a name when they are absent and dead. I cannot. not merely in his own house. and private men." a much more general. "Subdue the world:" and who shall put the same question to the other. that he used in his journeys always to ta e up his lodgings in temples. than those in authority do: we prepare ourselves for eminent occasions. whatever. but Alexander in that of Socrates. "Carry on human life conformably with its natural condition. govern a people. would be to do that for conscience which we do for glory: and the virtue of Alexander appears to me of much less vigor in his great theater. says: "of which the master is the same within. love. when I leave it I quit the rest. all is tumult and degraded. laugh. and represent an honest man upon the stage: but within. where all may do as they list. undergo duties of as great or greater difficulty than the others do.

than a great president venerable by his port and sufficiency: we fancy that they. li ewise. as heavy and unwieldy bodies do. As vicious souls are often incited by some foreign impulse to do well. "Sic ubi desuetae silvis in carcere clausae Mansuevere ferae. si torrida parvus {BK2_13 ^paragraph 20} Venit in ora cruor. I always find myself in my place. The Latin tongue is as it were natural to me. and are so far out of their sight. Admonitaeque tument gustato sanguine fauces. or upon his wife. and li e their own. et a trepido vix abstinet ira magistro. I seldom find myself agitated with surprises. and once. in spite of so long a discontinuation. wide nostrils. whenever that may be. seeing my father in perfect health fall upon me in a swoon. if I am not at home. As they who judge and try us within. and this example is said of many others. but in mediocrity. but the essential vices they leave as they were. at all events. Loo a little into our experience: there is no man. and forcibly expressing itself. {BK2_13 ^paragraph 15} Natural inclinations are much assisted and fortified by education: but they seldom alter and overcome their institution: a thousand natures of my time have escaped toward virtue or vice. its grandeur does not exercise itself in grandeur. We much more aptly imagine an artisan upon his close-stool. will not abase themselves so much as to live. and augmentation is. through a quite contrary discipline. if he listen to himself. when they are nearer repose. of less cost and greater show. if indeed. and in their native station. and a prodigious stature. They who in my time have attempted to correct the manners of the world by new opinions. my dissipations do not transport me very far. but I have not been used to spea it. they are therefore to be judged by their settled state. that jostles his education. they may be covered and concealed. and cannot couple common faculties. Therefore it is. from their high tribunals. we defer all other well doing upon the account of these external reformations. who does not in himself discover a particular and governing form of his own. For my part. they who judge of us by this gallant outward appearance. to be feared. Yet. nature starting up. Atque hominem didicere pati. Fervet. redeunt rabiesque furorque." these original qualities are not to be rooted out. they do not augment them. I am always near at hand. I should hardly have believed but that all was adage and apothegm he spo e to his man or his hostess. when they are at home. and yet I have sound and vigorous turns. reform seeming vices. with the other faculties that astonish them. and wrestles with the tempest of passions that are contrary to it.wal ing orderly. according to the imagination he has conceived by the report of his name? Had any one formerly brought me to Erasmus. et vultus posuere minaces.                   . nor hardly to write it these forty years. for the other natural consubstantial and intestine vices. therein. and see they are only strea s and rays of clear water springing from a slimy and muddy bottom: so. upon extreme and sudden emotions which I have fallen into twice or thrice in my life. and thereby expiate cheaply. I understand it better than French. I have always uttered my first outcries and ejaculations in Latin. that we give such savage forms to demons: and who does not give Tamerlane great eyebrows. a dreadful visage. and. so are virtuous souls to do ill. in li e manner conclude of our internal constitution. there is nothing strange nor extreme in the case. ma e no great account of the luster of our public actions.

as we say of utility. There are some sins that are impetuous. or long practice. very nearly as much as their sin. let us set them aside. the same force. and lent for                         . but less than poverty. the same turn. it has always. and which touches the common practice of men. and by means of his strength of body. I customarily do what I do thoroughly and ma e but one step on't. but viciously and basely. which he openly confesses to every one. that being born a beggar. where the temptation is violent. prompt. their repentance sic and faulty. without division or intestine sedition. but to the extent he has thus recompensed. I fixed myself from my childhood in the place where I resolved to stic . not only if accidental. that the loss was of less importance to every particular man. be constant to have them. be imagined so vast a disproportion of measure. for he ever made his harvest and vintage in other men's grounds. is. and hates it. and the repentance he boasts to be inspired with on a sudden. as in thefts. By this description. and the blame it once has. cannot see its deformity. and sudden. he repents not. the idea of their reformation composed. as in the enjoyment of women. he resolved to turn thief. deliberated. I follow not the opinion of the Pythagorean sect. and as to universal opinions. where with justice the pleasure might excuse the sin. that he is daily ready by good offices to ma e satisfaction to the successors of those he has robbed. and rich for a man of his condition. and in so great quantities. this man loo s upon theft as a dishonest action. he says. new. "that men ta e up a new soul when they repair to the images of the gods to receive their oracles. so as to be clear of indigence. and lend themselves to it. and.{BK2_13 ^paragraph 25} The true condemnation. I have rarely any movement that hides itself and steals away from my reason. that their very retirement itself is full of filth and corruption. judgment and all. This is not that habit which incorporates us into vice. on the estate of a insman of mine. my judgment is to have all the blame or all the praise. true or false. I cannot conceive that they should have so long been settled in the same resolution. was careful equally to divide and distribute the mischief he did. the same inclination. to get his living by the sweat of his brow. is very hard for me to imagine or form. but the very exercise of sin. and 'tis said. but they counterbalance it with pleasure. but in these other sins so often repeated. whether sins of complexion or sins of profession and vocation. Being the other day at Armaignac. into the power of vice. and contrived." unless he mean that it must needs be extrinsic. proportionably to the wrong he himself only nows he has done to each. and finding that he should not be able. had exercised this trade all the time of his youth in great security. nor is it that impetuous whirlwind that by gusts troubles and blinds our souls and for the time precipitates us. than s to his trade. haply. and suffer. for a certain price. Yet there might. that it was not to be imagined one man could have carried away so much in one night upon his shoulders. I there saw a country fellow who was by every one nic named the thief. for almost from my infancy it has ever been one. He thus related the story of his life. Others (of which constitution I am) do indeed feel the weight of vice. moreover. and simply repents. and that does not proceed in the matter by the consent of all my faculties. Some. and out of sin. but a great way off. either from having been lin ed to vice by a natural propension. sometimes not to be overcome. unless the reason and conscience of him who has them. and if he do not finish (for to do it all at once he is not able) he will then leave it in charge to his heirs to perform the rest. And to ma e his peace with God. and conforms even our understanding itself to it. or some other occasion. He is now grown old.

who do indeed. I can do no better. They act quite contrary to the stoical precepts. I have proceeded with discretion. I may desire in general to be other than I am. when I deliberated on it: the force of all counsel consists in the time. and not to be foreseen. I blame it not: 'tis commissioned no further than its own limits. Phocion. but what it was then. I accuse my fortune. and must pric my bowels as deeply and universally as God sees into me. but for want of good luc . that spring and start up by incidental occasions. but forbid us therefore to disturb the repose of our souls. some one said to him. fit for such an office. parts in matters we have in hand. occasions and things eternally shift and change. if men do not conform their manners and life to the profession. especially in the nature of men. I now no repentance. I find that. command us to correct the imperfections and vices we now ourselves guilty of. forasmuch as we may well suppose that in a more excellent nature they would have been carried on with greater dignity and perfection. it would weigh down sin. if repentance were laid upon the scale of the balance. sorrow does. if my prudence could not penetrate into nor foresee them. no more. with which I am stained. superficial. there is no remedy. this cannot be called repentance. in my former resolves. many excellent opportunities have escaped me for want of good management. half-way and ceremonious. and repentance does not properly touch things that are not in our power. "Well. and to my condition. and beg of Almighty God for an entire reformation. If to conceive and wish a nobler way of acting than that we have. it must sting me all over before I can call it so. according to the occurrences presented to me: 'tis their way to choose always the easiest and safest course. It cannot be a cure if the malady be not wholly discharged. and the affair nevertheless succeeding contrary to his opinion. My actions are regular. {BK2_13 ^paragraph 30} As to business. not for want of good understanding. if the event be too hard for me. un nown sometimes even to the possessors themselves. with that of my old age. and ta e the side I have refused. I imagine an infinite number of natures more elevated and regular than mine. that ma e no show. and that He will please to pardon my natural infirmity: but I ought not to call this repentance. its essence is abstruse and occult. It is not a patch. I have in my life committed some important errors. the appearances easy and ostentatious. and yet my deliberations were sound enough. and we would that ours were so. we must then repent us of our most innocent actions. our own showing so little sign of purification and cleanness. correction. but of amendment. I find no quality so easy to counterfeit as devotion. When I reflect upon the deportments of my youth. I do not consider what it is now. according to my own rule. or interruption. and should do the same a thousand years hence in li e occasions. For my own part. mute conditions. should produce a repentance of our own. I find that I have commonly behaved myself with equal order in both. these ma e us believe that they have great grief and remorse within. There are secret. and yet I do not for all that improve my faculties. no more than my arm or will grow more strong and vigorous for conceiving those of another to be so.the time. and not my wor . I do not blame myself. and according to the state of the subject proposed. Phocion. according to what I understand: this is all that my resistance can do. I do not flatter m