house at Montaigne, Monseigneur, I have put into a French dress, with my
own hand, Raymond de Sebonde, that great Spanish theologian and
philosopher; and I have divested him, so far as I could, of that rough
bearing and barbaric appearance which you saw him wear at first; that, in
my opinion, he is now qualified to present himself in the best company.
It is perfectly possible that some fastidious persons will detect in the
book some trace of Gascon parentage; but it will be so much the more to
their discredit, that they allowed the task to devolve on one who is
quite a novice in these things. It is only right, Monseigneur, that the
work should come before the world under your auspices, since whatever
emendations and polish it may have received, are owing to you. Still I
see well that, if you think proper to balance accounts with the author,
you will find yourself much his debtor; for against his excellent and
religious discourses, his lofty and, so to speak, divine conceptions, you
will find that you will have to set nothing but words and phraseology; a
sort of merchandise so ordinary and commonplace, that whoever has the
most of it, peradventure is the worst off.
Monseigneur, I pray God to grant you a very long and happy life. From
Paris, this 18th of June 1568. Your most humble and most obedient son,
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
III.
To Monsieur, Monsieur de LANSAC,--[This letter appears to belong to
1570.]--Knight of the King's Order, Privy Councillor, Sub-controller of
his Finance, and Captain of the Cent Gardes of his Household.
MONSIEUR,--I send you the OEconomics of Xenophon, put into French by the
late M. de la Boetie,--[Printed at Paris, 8vo, 1571, and reissued, with
the addition of some notes, in 1572, with a fresh title-page.]--a present
which appears to me to be appropriate, as well because it is the work of
a gentleman of mark,--[Meaning Xenophon.]--a man illustrious in war and
peace, as because it has taken its second shape from a personage whom I
know to have been held by you in affectionate regard during his life.
This will be an inducement to you to continue to cherish towards his
memory, your good opinion and goodwill. And to be bold with you,
Monsieur, do not fear to increase these sentiments somewhat; for, as you
had knowledge of his high qualities only in his public capacity, it rests
with me to assure you how many endowments he possessed beyond your
personal experience of him. He did me the honour, while he lived, and I
count it amongst the most fortunate circumstances in my own career, to
have with me a friendship so close and so intricately knit, that no
movement, impulse, thought, of his mind was kept from me, and if I have
not formed a right judgment of him, I must suppose it to be from my own
want of scope. Indeed, without exaggeration, he was so nearly a prodigy,
that I am afraid of not being credited when I speak of him, even though I
should keep much within the mark of my own actual knowledge. And for
this time, Monsieur, I shall content myself with praying you, for the
honour and respect we owe to truth, to testify and believe that our
Guienne never beheld his peer among the men of his vocation. Under the
hope, therefore, that you will pay him his just due, and in order to
refresh him in your memory, I present you this book, which will answer
for me that, were it not for the insufficiency of my power, I would offer
you as willingly something of my own, as an acknowledgment of the
obligations I owe to you, and of the ancient favour and friendship which
you have borne towards the members of our house. But, Monsieur, in
default of better coin, I offer you in payment the assurance of my desire
to do you humble service.
Monsieur, I pray God to have you in His keeping. Your obedient servant,
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE.
IV.
To Monsieur, Monsieur de MESMES, Lord of Roissy and Malassize, Privy
Councillor to the King.
MONSIEUR,--It is one of the most conspicuous follies committed by men,
to employ the strength of their understanding in overturning and
destroying those opinions which are commonly received among us, and which
afford us satisfaction and content; for while everything beneath heaven
employs the ways and means placed at its disposal by nature for the
advancement and commodity of its being, these, in order to appear of a
more sprightly and enlightened wit, not accepting anything which has not
been tried and balanced a thousand times with the most subtle reasoning,
sacrifice their peace of mind to doubt, uneasiness, and feverish
excitement. It is not without reason that childhood and simplicity have
been recommended by holy writ itself. For my part, I prefer to be quiet
rather than clever: give me content, even if I am not to be so wide in my
range. This is the reason, Monsieur, why, although persons of an
ingenious turn laugh at our care as to what will happen after our own
time, for instance, to our souls, which, lodged elsewhere, will lose all
consciousness of what goes on here below, yet I consider it to be a great
consolation for the frailty and brevity of life, to reflect that we have
the power of prolonging it by reputation and fame; and I embrace very
readily this pleasant and favourable notion original with our being,
without inquiring too critically how or why it is. Insomuch that having
loved, beyond everything, the late M. de la Boetie, the greatest man, in
my judgment, of our age, I should think myself very negligent of my duty
if I failed, to the utmost of my power, to prevent such a name as his,
and a memory so richly meriting remembrance, from falling into oblivion;
and if I did not use my best endeavour to keep them fresh. I believe
that he feels something of what I do on his behalf, and that my services
touch and rejoice him. In fact, he lives in my heart so vividly and so
wholly, that I am loath to believe him committed to the dull ground, or
altogether cast off from communication with us. Therefore, Monsieur,
since every new light I can shed on him and his name, is so much added to
his second period of existence, and, moreover, since his name is ennobled
and honoured by the place which receives it, it falls to me not only to
extend it as widely as I can, but to confide it to the keeping of persons
of honour and virtue; among whom you hold such a rank, that, to afford
you the opportunity of receiving this new guest, and giving him good
entertainment, I decided on presenting to you this little work, not for
any profit you are likely to derive from it, being well aware that you do
not need to have Plutarch and his companions interpreted to you--but it
is possible that Madame de Roissy, reading in it the order of her
household management and of your happy accord painted to the life, will
be pleased to see how her own natural inclination has not only reached
but surpassed the theories of the wisest philosophers, regarding the
duties and laws of the wedded state. And, at all events, it will be
always an honour to me, to be able to do anything which shall be for the
pleasure of you and yours, on account of the obligation under which I lie
to serve you.
Monsieur, I pray God to grant you a long and happy life. From Montaigne,
this 30th April 1570. Your humble servant,
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE.
V.
To Monsieur, Monsieur de L'HOSPITAL, Chancellor of France
MONSEIGNEUR,--I am of the opinion that persons such as you, to whom
fortune and reason have committed the charge of public affairs, are not
more inquisitive in any point than in ascertaining the character of those
in office under you; for no society is so poorly furnished, but that, if
a proper distribution of authority be used, it has persons sufficient for
the discharge of all official duties; and when this is the case, nothing
is wanting to make a State perfect in its constitution. Now, in
proportion as this is so much to be desired, so it is the more difficult
of accomplishment, since you cannot have eyes to embrace a multitude so
large and so widely extended, nor to see to the bottom of hearts, in
order that you may discover intentions and consciences, matters
principally to be considered; so that there has never been any
commonwealth so well organised, in which we might not detect often enough
defect in such a department or such a choice; and in those systems, where
ignorance and malice, favouritism, intrigue, and violence govern, if any
selection happens to be made on the ground of merit and regularity, we
may doubtless thank Fortune, which, in its capricious movements, has for
once taken the path of reason.
This consideration, Monseigneur, often consoled me, when I beheld M.
Etienne de la Boetie, one of the fittest men for high office in France,
pass his whole life without employment and notice, by his domestic
hearth, to the singular detriment of the public; for, so far as he was
concerned, I may assure you, Monseigneur, that he was so rich in those
treasures which defy fortune, that never was man more satisfied or
content. I know, indeed, that he was raised to the dignities connected
with his neighbourhood--dignities accounted considerable; and I know
also, that no one ever acquitted himself better of them; and when he died
at the age of thirty-two, he enjoyed a reputation in that way beyond all
who had preceded him.
But for all that, it is no reason that a man should be left a common
soldier, who deserves to become a captain; nor to assign mean functions
to those who are perfectly equal to the highest. In truth, his powers
were badly economised and too sparingly employed; insomuch that, over and
above his actual work, there was abundant capacity lying idle which might
have been called into service, both to the public advantage and his own
private glory.
Therefore, Monseigneur, since he was so indifferent to his own fame (for
virtue and ambition, unfortunately, seldom lodge together), and since he
lived in an age when others were too dull or too jealous to witness to
his character, I have it marvellously at heart that his memory, at all
events, to which I owe the good offices of a friend, should enjoy the
recompense of his brave life; and that it should survive in the good
report of men of honour and virtue. On this account, sir, I have been
desirous to bring to light, and present to you, such few Latin verses as
he left behind. Different from the builder, who places the most
attractive, portion of his house towards the street, and to the draper,
who displays in his window his best goods, that which was most precious
in my friend, the juice and marrow of his genius, departed with him, and
there have remained to us but the bark and the leaves.
The exactly regulated movements of his mind, his piety, his virtue, his
justice, his vivacity, the solidity and soundness of his judgment, the
loftiness of his ideas, raised so far above the common level, his
learning, the grace which accompanied his most ordinary actions, the
tender affection he had for his miserable country, and his supreme and
sworn detestation of all vice, but principally of that villainous traffic
which disguises itself under the honourable name of justice, should
certainly impress all well-disposed persons with a singular love towards
him, and an extraordinary regret for his loss. But, sir, I am unable to
do justice to all these qualities; and of the fruit of his own studies it
had not entered into his mind to leave any proof to posterity; all that
remains, is the little which, as a pastime, he did at intervals.
However this may be, I beg you, sir, to receive it kindly; and as our
judgment of great things is many times formed from lesser things, and as
even the recreations of illustrious men carry with them, to intelligent
observers, some honourable traits of their origin, I would have you form
from this, some knowledge of him, and hence lovingly cherish his name and
his memory. In this, sir, you will only reciprocate the high opinion
which he had of your virtue, and realise what he infinitely desired in
his lifetime; for there was no one in the world in whose acquaintance and
friendship he would have been so happy to see himself established, as in
your own. But if any man is offended by the freedom which I use with the
belongings of another, I can tell him that nothing which has been written
or been laid down, even in the schools of philosophy, respecting the
sacred duties and rights of friendship, could give an adequate idea of
the relations which subsisted between this personage and myself.
Moreover, sir, this slender gift, to make two throws of one stone at the
same time, may likewise serve, if you please, to testify the honour and
respect which I entertain for your ability and high qualities; for as to
those gifts which are adventitious and accidental, it is not to my taste
to take them into account.
Sir, I pray God to grant you a very happy and a very long life. From
Montaigne, this 30th of April 1570.--Your humble and obedient servant,
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE.
To Monsieur, Monsieur de Folx, Privy Councillor, and Ambassador of His
Majesty to the Signory of Venice.--[ Printed before the 'Vers Francois'
of Etienne de la Boetie, 8vo, Paris, 1572.]
SIR,--Being on the point of commending to you and to posterity the memory
of the late Etienne de la Boetie, as well for his extreme virtue as for
the singular affection which he bore to me, it struck me as an
indiscretion very serious in its results, and meriting some coercion from
our laws, the practice which often prevails of robbing virtue of glory,
its faithful associate, in order to confer it, in accordance with our
private interests and without discrimination, on the first comer; seeing
that our two principal guiding reins are reward and punishment, which
only touch us properly, and as men, through the medium of honour and
dishonour, forasmuch as these penetrate the mind, and come home to our
most intimate feelings: just where animals themselves are susceptible,
more or less, to all other kinds of recompense and corporal chastisement.
Moreover, it is well to notice that the custom of praising virtue, even
in those who are no longer with us, impalpable as it is to them, serves
as a stimulant to the living to imitate their example; just as capital
sentences are carried out by the law, more for the sake of warning to
others, than in relation to those who suffer. Now, commendation and its
opposite being analogous as regards effects, we cannot easily deny
the fact, that although the law prohibits one man from slandering the
reputation of another, it does not prevent us from bestowing reputation
without cause. This pernicious licence in respect to the distribution of
praise, has formerly been confined in its area of operations; and it may
be the reason why poetry once lost favour with the more judicious.
However this may be, it cannot be concealed that the vice of falsehood is
one very unbecoming in gentleman, let it assume what guise it will.
As for that personage of whom I am speaking to you, sir he leads me far
away indeed from this kind of language; for the danger in his case is
not, lest I should lend him anything, but that I might take something
from him; and it is his ill-fortune that, while he has supplied me, so
far as ever a man could, with just and obvious opportunities for
commendation, I find myself unable and unqualified to render it to him
--I, who am his debtor for so many vivid communications, and who alone
have it in my power to answer for a million of accomplishments,
perfections, and virtues, latent (thanks to his unkind stars) in so noble
a soul. For the nature of things having (I know not how) permitted that
truth, fair and acceptable--as it may be of itself, is only embraced
where there are arts of persuasion, to insinuate it into our minds, I see
myself so wanting, both in authority to support my simple testimony, and
in the eloquence requisite for lending it value and weight, that I was on
the eve of relinquishing the task, having nothing of his which would
enable me to exhibit to the world a proof of his genius and knowledge.
In truth, sir, having been overtaken by his fate in the flower of his
age, and in the full enjoyment of the most vigorous health, it had been
his design to publish some day works which would have demonstrated to
posterity what sort of a man he was; and, peradventure, he was
indifferent enough to fame, having formed such a plan in his head, to
proceed no further in it. But I have come to the conclusion, that it was
far more excusable in him to bury with him all his rare endowments, than
it would be on my part to bury also with me the knowledge of them which I
had acquired from him; and, therefore, having collected with care all the
remains which I found scattered here and there among his papers, I intend
to distribute them so as to recommend his memory to as many persons as
possible, selecting the most suitable and worthy of my acquaintance, and
those whose testimony might do him greatest honour: such as you, sir, who
may very possibly have had some knowledge of him during his life, but
assuredly too slight to discover the perfect extent of his worth.
Posterity may credit me, if it chooses, when I swear upon my conscience,
that I knew and saw him to be such as, all things considered, I could
neither desire nor imagine a genius surpassing his.
I beg you very humbly, sir, not only to take his name under your general
protection, but also these ten or twelve French stanzas, which lay
themselves, as of necessity, under shadow of your patronage. For I will
not disguise from you, that their publication was deferred, upon the
appearance of his other writings, under the pretext (as it was alleged
yonder at Paris) that they were too crude to come to light. You will
judge, sir, how much truth there is in this; and since it is thought that
hereabout nothing can be produced in our own dialect but what is
barbarous and unpolished, it falls to you, who, besides your rank as the
first house in Guienne, indeed down from your ancestors, possess every
other sort of qualification, to establish, not merely by your example,
but by your authoritative testimony, that such is not always the case:
the more so that, though 'tis more natural with the Gascons to act than
talk, yet sometimes they employ the tongue more than the arm, and wit in
place of valour.
For my own part; sir, it is not in my way to judge of such matters; but I
have heard persons who are supposed to understand them, say that these
stanzas are not only worthy to be presented in the market-place, but,
independently of that, as regards beauty and wealth of invention, they
are full of marrow and matter as any compositions of the kind, which have
appeared in our language. Naturally each workman feels himself more
strong in some special part his art, and those are to be regarded as most
fortunate, who lay hands on the noblest, for all the parts essential to
the construction of any whole are not equally precious. We find
elsewhere, perhaps, greater delicacy phrase, greater softness and harmony
of language; but imaginative grace, and in the store of pointed wit, I do
not think he has been surpassed; and we should take the account that he
made these things neither his occupation nor his study, and that he
scarcely took a pen in his hand more than once a year, as is shown by the
very slender quantity of his remains. For you see here, sir, green wood
and dry, without any sort of selection, all that has come into my
possession; insomuch that there are among the rest efforts even of his
boyhood. In point of fact, he seems to have written them merely to show
that he was capable of dealing with all subjects: for otherwise,
thousands of times, in the course of ordinary conversation, I have heard
things drop from him infinitely more worthy of being admired, infinitely
more worthy of being preserved.
Such, sir, is what justice and affection, forming in this instance a rare
conjunction, oblige me to say of this great and good man; and if I have
at all offended by the freedom which I have taken in addressing myself to
you on such a subject at such a length, be pleased to recollect that the
principal result of greatness and eminence is to lay one open to
importunate appeals on behalf of the rest of the world. Herewith, after
desiring you to accept my affectionate devotion to your service,
I beseech God to vouchsafe you, sir, a fortunate and prolonged life.
From Montaigne, this 1st of September 1570.--Your obedient servant,
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE.
To Mademoiselle de MONTAIGNE, my Wife.--[Printed as a preface to the
"Consolation of Plutarch to his Wife," published by Montaigne, with
several other tracts by La Boetie, about 1571.]
MY WIFE,--You understand well that it is not proper for a man of the
world, according to the rules of this our time, to continue to court and
caress you; for they say that a sensible person may take a wife indeed,
but that to espouse her is to act like a fool. Let them talk; I adhere
for my part the custom of the good old days; I also wear my hair as it
used to be then; and, in truth, novelty costs this poor country up to the
present moment so dear (and I do not know whether we have reached the
highest pitch yet), that everywhere and in everything I renounce the
fashion. Let us live, my wife, you and I, in the old French method.
Now, you may recollect that the late M. de la Boetie, my brother and
inseparable companion, gave me, on his death-bed, all his books and
papers, which have remained ever since the most precious part of my
effects. I do not wish to keep them niggardly to myself alone, nor do I
deserve to have the exclusive use of them; so that I have resolved to
communicate them to my friends; and because I have none, I believe, more
particularly intimate you, I send you the Consolatory Letter written by
Plutarch to his Wife, translated by him into French; regretting much that
fortune has made it so suitable a present you, and that, having had but
one child, and that a daughter, long looked for, after four years of your
married life it was your lot to lose her in the second year of her age.
But I leave to Plutarch the duty of comforting you, acquainting you with
your duty herein, begging you to put your faith in him for my sake; for
he will reveal to you my own ideas, and will express the matter far
better than I should myself. Hereupon, my wife, I commend myself very
heartily to your good will, and pray God to have you in His keeping.
From Paris, this 10th September 1570.--Your good husband,
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE.
VIII.
To Monsieur DUPUY,--[This is probably the Claude Dupuy, born at Paris in
1545, and one of the fourteen judges sent into Guienne after the treaty
of Fleix in 1580. It was perhaps under these circumstances that
Montaigne addressed to him the present letter.]--the King's Councillor in
his Court and Parliament of Paris.
MONSIEUR,--The business of the Sieur de Verres, a prisoner, who is
extremely well known to me, deserves, in the arrival at a decision,
the exercise of the clemency natural to you, if, in the public interest,
you can fairly call it into play. He has done a thing not only
excusable, according to the military laws of this age, but necessary and
(as we are of opinion) commendable. He committed the act, without doubt,
unwillingly and under pressure; there is no other passage of his life
which is open to reproach. I beseech you, sir, to lend the matter your
attentive consideration; you will find the character of it as I represent
it to you. He is persecuted on this crime, in a way which is far worse
than the offence itself. If it is likely to be of use to him, I desire
to inform you that he is a man brought up in my house, related to several
respectable families, and a person who, having led an honourable life,
is my particular friend. By saving him you lay me under an extreme
obligation. I beg you very humbly to regard him as recommended by me,
and, after kissing your hands, I pray God, sir, to grant you a long and
happy life. From Castera, this 23d of April [1580]. Your affectionate
servant,
MONTAIGNE.
IX.
To the Jurats of Bordeaux.--[Published from the original among the
archives of the town of Bordeaux, M. Gustave Brunet in the Bulletin du
Bibliophile, July 1839.]