CHAPTER XLVII

OF THE UNCERTAINTY OF OUR JUDGMENT

Well says this verse:

[“There is everywhere much liberty of speech.”--Iliad, xx. 249.]

For example:

[“Hannibal conquered, but knew not how to make the best use of his

victorious venture.”--Petrarch, Son., 83.]

Such as would improve this argument, and condemn the oversight of our

leaders in not pushing home the victory at Moncontour, or accuse the King

of Spain of not knowing how to make the best use of the advantage he had

against us at St. Quentin, may conclude these oversights to proceed from

a soul already drunk with success, or from a spirit which, being full and

overgorged with this beginning of good fortune, had lost the appetite of

adding to it, already having enough to do to digest what it had taken in:

he has his arms full, and can embrace no more: unworthy of the benefit

fortune has conferred upon him and the advantage she had put into his

hands: for what utility does he reap from it, if, notwithstanding, he

give his enemy respite to rally and make head against him? What hope is

there that he will dare at another time to attack an enemy reunited and

recomposed, and armed anew with anger and revenge, who did not dare to

pursue them when routed and unmanned by fear?

“Dum fortuna calet, dum conficit omnia terror.”

[“Whilst fortune is fresh, and terror finishes all.”

--Lucan, vii. 734.]

But withal, what better opportunity can he expect than that he has lost?

‘Tis not here, as in fencing, where the most hits gain the prize; for so

long as the enemy is on foot, the game is new to begin, and that is not

to be called a victory that puts not an end to the war. In the encounter

where Caesar had the worst, near the city of Oricum, he reproached

Pompey’s soldiers that he had been lost had their general known how to

overcome; and afterwards clawed him in a very different fashion when it

came to his turn.

But why may not a man also argue, on the contrary, that it is the effect

of a precipitous and insatiate spirit not to know how to bound and

restrain its coveting; that it is to abuse the favours of God to exceed

the measure He has prescribed them: and that again to throw a man’s self

into danger after a victory obtained is again to expose himself to the

mercy of fortune: that it is one of the greatest discretions in the rule

of war not to drive an enemy to despair? Sylla and Marius in the social

war, having defeated the Marsians, seeing yet a body of reserve that,

prompted by despair, was coming on like enraged brutes to dash in upon

them, thought it not convenient to stand their charge. Had not Monsieur

de Foix’s ardour transported him so furiously to pursue the remains of

the victory of Ravenna, he had not obscured it by his own death. And yet

the recent memory of his example served to preserve Monsieur d’Anguien

from the same misfortune at the battle of Serisoles. ‘Tis dangerous to

attack a man you have deprived of all means to escape but by his arms,

for necessity teaches violent resolutions:

“Gravissimi sunt morsus irritatae necessitatis.”

[“Irritated necessity bites deepest.”--Portius Latro., Declam.]

“Vincitur haud gratis, jugulo qui provocat hostem.”

[“He is not readily beaten who provokes the enemy by shewing

his throat.”--or: “He who presents himself to his foe, sells his

life dear.”--Lucan, iv. 275.]

This was it that made Pharax withhold the King of Lacedaemon, who had won

a battle against the Mantineans, from going to charge a thousand Argians,

who had escaped in an entire body from the defeat, but rather let them

steal off at liberty that he might not encounter valour whetted and

enraged by mischance. Clodomir, king of Aquitaine, after his victory

pursuing Gondemar, king of Burgundy, beaten and making off as fast as he

could for safety, compelled him to face about and make head, wherein his

obstinacy deprived him of the fruit of his conquest, for he there lost

his life.

In like manner, if a man were to choose whether he would have his

soldiers richly and sumptuously accoutred or armed only for the necessity

of the matter in hand, this argument would step in to favour the first,

of which opinion was Sertorius, Philopcemen, Brutus, Caesar, and others,

that it is to a soldier an enflaming of courage and a spur himself in

brave attire; and withal a motive to be more obstinate in fight, having

his arms, which are in a manner his estate and whole inheritance to

defend; which is the reason, says Xenophon, why those of Asia carried

their wives and concubines, with their choicest jewels and greatest

wealth, along with them to the wars. But then these arguments would be

as ready to stand up for the other side; that a general ought rather to

lessen in his men their solicitude of preserving themselves than to

increase it; that by such means they will be in a double fear of

hazarding their persons, as it will be a double temptation to the enemy

to fight with greater resolution where so great booty and so rich spoils

are to be obtained; and this very thing has been observed in former

times, notably to encourage the Romans against the Samnites. Antiochus,

shewing Hannibal the army he had raised, wonderfully splendid and rich in

all sorts of equipage, asked him if the Romans would be satisfied with

that army? “Satisfied,” replied the other, “yes, doubtless, were their

avarice never so great.” Lycurgus not only forbad his soldiers all

manner of bravery in their equipage, but, moreover, to strip their

conquered enemies, because he would, as he said, that poverty and

frugality should shine with the rest of the battle.

At sieges and elsewhere, where occasion draws us near to the enemy, we

willingly suffer our men to brave, rate, and affront him with all sorts

of injurious language; and not without some colour of reason: for it is

of no little consequence to take from them all hopes of mercy and

composition, by representing to them that there is no fair quarter to be

expected from an enemy they have incensed to that degree, nor other

remedy remaining but in victory. And yet Vitellius found himself

deceived in this way of proceeding; for having to do with Otho, weaker in

the valour of his soldiers, long unaccustomed to war and effeminated with

the delights of the city, he so nettled them at last with injurious

language, reproaching them with cowardice and regret for the mistresses

and entertainments they had left behind at Rome, that by this means he

inspired them with such resolution as no exhortation had had the power to

have done, and himself made them fall upon him, with whom their own

captains before could by no means prevail. And, indeed, when they are

injuries that touch to the quick, it may very well fall out that he who

went but unwillingly to work in the behalf of his prince will fall to’t

with another sort of mettle when the quarrel is his own.

Considering of how great importance is the preservation of the general of

an army, and that the universal aim of an enemy is levelled directly at

the head, upon which all the others depend, the course seems to admit of

no dispute, which we know has been taken by so many great captains, of

changing their habit and disguising their persons upon the point of going

to engage. Nevertheless, the inconvenience a man by so doing runs into

is not less than that he thinks to avoid; for the captain, by this means

being concealed from the knowledge of his own men, the courage they

should derive from his presence and example happens by degrees to cool

and to decay; and not seeing the wonted marks and ensigns of their

leader, they presently conclude him either dead, or that, despairing of

the business, he is gone to shift for himself. And experience shows us

that both these ways have been successful and otherwise. What befell

Pyrrhus in the battle he fought against the Consul Levinus in Italy will

serve us to both purposes; for though by shrouding his person under the

armour of Megacles and making him wear his own, he undoubtedly preserved

his own life, yet, by that very means, he was withal very near running

into the other mischief of losing the battle. Alexander, Caesar, and

Lucullus loved to make themselves known in a battle by rich accoutrements

and armour of a particular lustre and colour: Agis, Agesilaus, and that

great Gilippus, on the contrary, used to fight obscurely armed, and

without any imperial attendance or distinction.

Amongst other oversights Pompey is charged withal at the battle of

Pharsalia, he is condemned for making his army stand still to receive the

enemy’s charge; by “reason that” (I shall here steal Plutarch’s own

words, which are better than mine) “he by so doing deprived himself of

the violent impression the motion of running adds to the first shock of

arms, and hindered that clashing of the combatants against one another

which is wont to give them greater impetuosity and fury; especially when

they come to rush in with their utmost vigour, their courages increasing

by the shouts and the career; ‘tis to render the soldiers’ ardour, as a

man may say, more reserved and cold.” This is what he says. But if

Caesar had come by the worse, why might it not as well have been urged by

another, that, on the contrary, the strongest and most steady posture of

fighting is that wherein a man stands planted firm without motion; and

that they who are steady upon the march, closing up, and reserving their

force within themselves for the push of the business, have a great

advantage against those who are disordered, and who have already spent

half their breath in running on precipitately to the charge? Besides

that an army is a body made up of so many individual members, it is

impossible for it to move in this fury with so exact a motion as not to

break the order of battle, and that the best of them are not engaged

before their fellows can come on to help them. In that unnatural battle

betwixt the two Persian brothers, the Lacedaemonian Clearchus, who

commanded the Greeks of Cyrus’ party, led them on softly and without

precipitation to the charge; but, coming within fifty paces, hurried them

on full speed, hoping in so short a career both to keep their order and

to husband their breath, and at the same time to give the advantage of

impetuosity and impression both to their persons and their missile arms.

Others have regulated this question as to their armies thus if your enemy

come full drive upon you, stand firm to receive him; if he stand to

receive you, run full drive upon him.

In the expedition of the Emperor Charles V. into Provence, King Francis

was put to choose either to go meet him in Italy or to await him in his

own dominions; wherein, though he very well considered of how great

advantage it was to preserve his own territory entire and clear from the

troubles of war, to the end that, being unexhausted of its stores, it

might continually supply men and money at need; that the necessity of war

requires at every turn to spoil and lay waste the country before us,

which cannot very well be done upon one’s own; to which may be added,

that the country people do not so easily digest such a havoc by those of

their own party as from an enemy, so that seditions and commotions might

by such means be kindled amongst us; that the licence of pillage and

plunder (which are not to be tolerated at home) is a great ease and

refreshment against the fatigues and sufferings of war; and that he who

has no other prospect of gain than his bare pay will hardly be kept from

running home, being but two steps from his wife and his own house; that

he who lays the cloth is ever at the charge of the feast; that there is

more alacrity in assaulting than defending; and that the shock of a

battle’s loss in our own bowels is so violent as to endanger the

disjointing of the whole body, there being no passion so contagious as

that of fear, that is so easily believed, or that so suddenly diffuses

itself; and that the cities that should hear the rattle of this tempest

at their gates, that should take in their captains and soldiers yet

trembling and out of breath, would be in danger in this heat and hurry to

precipitate themselves upon some untoward resolution: notwithstanding all

this, so it was that he chose to recall the forces he had beyond the

mountains and to suffer the enemy to come to him. For he might, on the

other hand, imagine that, being at home and amongst his friends, he could

not fail of plenty of all manner of conveniences; the rivers and passes

he had at his devotion would bring him in both provisions and money in

all security, and without the trouble of convoy; that he should find his

subjects by so much the more affectionate to him, by how much their

danger was more near and pressing; that having so many cities and

barriers to secure him, it would be in his power to give the law of

battle at his own opportunity and advantage; and that, if it pleased him

to delay the time, under cover and at his ease he might see his enemy

founder and defeat himself with the difficulties he was certain to

encounter, being engaged in a hostile country, where before, behind, and

on every side war would be made upon him; no means to refresh himself or

to enlarge his quarters, should diseases infest them, or to lodge his

wounded men in safety; no money, no victuals, but at the point of the

lance; no leisure to repose and take breath; no knowledge of the ways or

country to secure him from ambushes and surprises; and in case of losing

a battle, no possible means of saving the remains. Neither is there want

of example in both these cases.

Scipio thought it much better to go and attack his enemy’s territories in

Africa than to stay at home to defend his own and to fight him in Italy,

and it succeeded well with him. But, on the contrary, Hannibal in the

same war ruined himself by abandoning the conquest of a foreign country

to go and defend his own. The Athenians having left the enemy in their

own dominions to go over into Sicily, were not favoured by fortune in

their design; but Agathocles, king of Syracuse, found her favourable to

him when he went over into Africa and left the war at home.

By which examples we are wont to conclude, and with some reason, that

events, especially in war, for the most part depend upon fortune, who

will not be governed by nor submit unto human reasons and prudence,

according to the poet:

“Et male consultis pretium est: prudentia fallit

Nec fortune probat causas, sequiturque merentes,

Sed vaga per cunctos nullo discrimine fertur.

Scilicet est aliud, quod nos cogatque regatque

Majus, et in proprias ducat mortalia leges.”

[“And there is value in ill counsel: prudence deceives: nor does

fortune inquire into causes, nor aid the most deserving, but turns

hither and thither without discrimination. Indeed there is a

greater power which directs and rules us, and brings mortal affairs

under its own laws.”--Manilius, iv. 95.]

But, to take the thing right, it should seem that our counsels and

deliberations depend as much upon fortune as anything else we do, and

that she engages also our arguments in her uncertainty and confusion.

“We argue rashly and adventurously,” says Timaeus in Plato, “by reason

that, as well as ourselves, our discourses have great participation in

the temerity of chance.”

ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS:

“Art thou not ashamed,” said he to him, “to sing so well?”

As great a benefit to be without (children)

Away with that eloquence that enchants us with itself

Because the people know so well how to obey

Blemishes of the great naturally appear greater

Change is to be feared

Cicero: on fame

Confidence in another man’s virtue

Dangerous man you have deprived of all means to escape

Depend as much upon fortune as anything else we do

Fame: an echo, a dream, nay, the shadow of a dream

Far more easy and pleasant to follow than to lead

He who lays the cloth is ever at the charge of the feast

I honour those most to whom I show the least honour

In war not to drive an enemy to despair

My words does but injure the love I have conceived within.

Neither the courage to die nor the heart to live

Never spoke of my money, but falsely, as others do

No great choice betwixt not knowing to speak anything but ill

No man continues ill long but by his own fault

No necessity upon a man to live in necessity

No passion so contagious as that of fear

Not a victory that puts not an end to the war

Not want, but rather abundance, that creates avarice

Only secure harbour from the storms and tempests of life

Opinions they have of things and not by the things themselves

People conceiving they have right and title to be judges

Pyrrho’s hog

Repute for value in them, not what they bring to us

Satisfaction of mind to have only one path to walk in

That which cowardice itself has chosen for its refuge

The honour we receive from those that fear us is not honour

The pedestal is no part of the statue

There is more trouble in keeping money than in getting it.

There is nothing I hate so much as driving a bargain

Thou wilt not feel it long if thou feelest it too much

Tis the sharpnss of our mind that gives the edge to our pains

Titles being so dearly bought

Twenty people prating about him when he is at stool

Valour whetted and enraged by mischance

What can they not do; what do they fear to do (for beauty)

ESSAYS OF MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE

Translated by Charles Cotton

Edited by William Carew Hazlitt

1877

CONTENTS OF VOLUME 8.

XLVIII. Of war-horses, or destriers.

XLIX. Of ancient customs.

L. Of Democritus and Heraclitus.

LI. Of the vanity of words.

LII. Of the parsimony of the Ancients.

LIII. Of a saying of Caesar.

LIV. Of vain subtleties.

LV. Of smells.

LVI. Of prayers.

LVII. Of age.

Essays of Michel de Montaigne — Complete · 第 47 / 73 章