"Ad primum lapidem vectari quum placet, hora

Sumitur ex libro; si prurit frictus ocelli

Angulus, inspecta genesi, collyria quaerit;"

["When he is pleased to have himself carried to the first milestone,

the hour is chosen from the almanac; if he but rub the corner of his

eye, his horoscope having been examined, he seeks the aid of

salves."---Juvenal, vi. 576.]

he shall often throw himself even into excesses, if he will take my

advice; otherwise the least debauch will destroy him, and render him

troublesome and disagreeable in company. The worst quality in a

well-bred man is over-fastidiousness, and an obligation to a certain

particular way; and it is particular, if not pliable and supple. It is a

kind of reproach, not to be able, or not to dare, to do what we see those

about us do; let such as these stop at home. It is in every man

unbecoming, but in a soldier vicious and intolerable: who, as Philopcemen

said, ought to accustom himself to every variety and inequality of life.

Though I have been brought up, as much as was possible, to liberty and

independence, yet so it is that, growing old, and having by indifference

more settled upon certain forms (my age is now past instruction, and has

henceforward nothing to do but to keep itself up as well as it can),

custom has already, ere I was aware, so imprinted its character in me in

certain things, that I look upon it as a kind of excess to leave them

off; and, without a force upon myself, cannot sleep in the daytime, nor

eat between meals, nor breakfast, nor go to bed, without a great interval

betwixt eating and sleeping,--[Gastroesophogeal Reflux. D.W.]--as of

three hours after supper; nor get children but before I sleep, nor get

them standing; nor endure my own sweat; nor quench my thirst either with

pure water or pure wine; nor keep my head long bare, nor cut my hair

after dinner; 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; and I

could not lie without a canopy and curtains, as if they were essential

things. I could dine without a tablecloth, but without a clean napkin,

after the German fashion, very incommodiously; I foul them more than the

Germans or Italians do, and make but little use either of spoon or fork.

I complain that they did not keep up the fashion, begun after the example

of kings, to change our napkin at every service, as they do our plate.

We are told of that laborious soldier Marius that, growing old, he became

nice in his drink, and never drank but out of a particular cup of his own

I, in like manner, have suffered myself to fancy a certain form of

glasses, and not willingly to drink in common glasses, no more than from

a strange common hand: all metal offends me in comparison of a clear and

transparent matter: let my eyes taste, too, according to their capacity.

I owe several other such niceties to custom. Nature has also, on the

other side, helped me to some of hers: as not to be able to endure more

than two full meals in one day, without overcharging my stomach, nor a

total abstinence from one of those meals without filling myself with

wind, drying up my mouth, and dulling my appetite; the finding great

inconvenience from overmuch evening air; for of late years, in night

marches, which often happen to be all night long, after five or six hours

my stomach begins to be queasy, with a violent pain in my head, so that I

always vomit before the day can break. When the others go to breakfast,

I go to sleep; and when I rise, I am as brisk and gay as before. I had

always been told that the night dew never rises but in the beginning of

the night; but for some years past, long and familiar intercourse with

a lord, possessed with the opinion that the night dew is more sharp and

dangerous about the declining of the sun, an hour or two before it sets,

which he carefully avoids, and despises that of the night, he almost

impressed upon me, not so much his reasoning as his experiences. What,

shall mere doubt and inquiry strike our imagination, so as to change us?

Such as absolutely and on a sudden give way to these propensions, draw

total destruction upon themselves. I am sorry for several gentlemen who,

through the folly of their physicians, have in their youth and health

wholly shut themselves up: it were better to endure a cough, than, by

disuse, for ever to lose the commerce of common life in things of so

great utility. Malignant science, to interdict us the most pleasant

hours of the day! Let us keep our possession to the last; for the most

part, a man hardens himself by being obstinate, and corrects his

constitution, as Caesar did the falling sickness, by dint of contempt.

A man should addict himself to the best rules, but not enslave himself to

them, except to such, if there be any such, where obligation and

servitude are of profit.

Both kings and philosophers go to stool, and ladies too; public lives are

bound to ceremony; mine, that is obscure and private, enjoys all natural

dispensation; soldier and Gascon are also qualities a little subject to

indiscretion; wherefore I shall say of this act of relieving nature, that

it is desirable to refer it to certain prescribed and nocturnal hours,

and compel one's self to this by custom, as I have done; but not to

subject one's self, as I have done in my declining years, to a particular

convenience of place and seat for that purpose, and make it troublesome

by long sitting; and yet, in the fouler offices, is it not in some

measure excusable to require more care and cleanliness?

"Naturt homo mundum et elegans animal est."

["Man is by nature a clean and delicate creature."--Seneca, Ep., 92.]

Of all the actions of nature, I am the most impatient of being

interrupted in that. I have seen many soldiers troubled with the

unruliness of their bellies; whereas mine and I never fail of our

punctual assignation, which is at leaping out of bed, if some

indispensable business or sickness does not molest us.

I think then, as I said before, that sick men cannot better place

themselves anywhere in more safety, than in sitting still in that course

of life wherein they have been bred and trained up; change, be it what it

will, distempers and puts one out. Do you believe that chestnuts can

hurt a Perigordin or a Lucchese, or milk and cheese the mountain people?

We enjoin them not only a new, but a contrary, method of life; a change

that the healthful cannot endure. Prescribe water to a Breton of

threescore and ten; shut a seaman up in a stove; forbid a Basque footman

to walk: you will deprive them of motion, and in the end of air and

light:

"An vivere tanti est?

Cogimur a suetis animum suspendere rebus,

Atque, ut vivamus, vivere desinimus. .

Hos superesse reor, quibus et spirabilis aer

Et lux, qua regimur, redditur ipsa gravis."

["Is life worth so much? We are compelled to withhold the mind

from things to which we are accustomed; and, that we may live, we

cease to live . . . . Do I conceive that they still live, to

whom the respirable air, and the light itself, by which we are

governed, is rendered oppressive?"

--Pseudo-Gallus, Eclog., i. 155, 247.]

If they do no other good, they do this at least, that they prepare

patients betimes for death, by little and little undermining and cutting

off the use of life.

Both well and sick, I have ever willingly suffered myself to obey the

appetites that pressed upon me. I give great rein to my desires and

propensities; I do not love to cure one disease by another; I hate

remedies that are more troublesome than the disease itself. To be

subject to the colic and subject to abstain from eating oysters are two

evils instead of one; the disease torments us on the one side, and the

remedy on the other. Since we are ever in danger of mistaking, let us

rather run the hazard of a mistake, after we have had the pleasure. The

world proceeds quite the other way, and thinks nothing profitable that is

not painful; it has great suspicion of facility. My appetite, in various

things, has of its own accord happily enough accommodated itself to the

health of my stomach. Relish and pungency in sauces were pleasant to me

when young; my stomach disliking them since, my taste incontinently

followed. Wine is hurtful to sick people, and 'tis the first thing that

my mouth then finds distasteful, and with an invincible dislike.

Whatever I take against my liking does me harm; and nothing hurts me that

I eat with appetite and delight. I never received harm by any action

that was very pleasant to me; and accordingly have made all medicinal

conclusions largely give way to my pleasure; and I have, when I was

young,

"Quem circumcursans huc atque huc saepe Cupido

Fulgebat crocink splendidus in tunic."

["When Cupid, fluttering round me here and there, shone in his rich

purple mantle."--Catullus, lxvi. 133.]

given myself the rein as licentiously and inconsiderately to the desire

that was predominant in me, as any other whomsoever:

"Et militavi non sine gloria;"

["And I have played the soldier not ingloriously."

--Horace, Od., iii. 26, 2.]

yet more in continuation and holding out, than in sally:

"Sex me vix memini sustinuisse vices."

["I can scarcely remember six bouts in one night"

--Ovid, Amor., iii. 7, 26.]

'Tis certainly a misfortune and a miracle at once to confess at what a

tender age I first came under the subjection of love: it was, indeed, by

chance; for it was long before the years of choice or knowledge; I do not

remember myself so far back; and my fortune may well be coupled with that

of Quartilla, who could not remember when she was a maid:

"Inde tragus, celeresque pili, mirandaque matri

Barba meae."

["Thence the odour of the arm-pits, the precocious hair, and the

beard which astonished my mother."--Martial, xi. 22, 7.]

Physicians modify their rules according to the violent longings that

happen to sick persons, ordinarily with good success; this great desire

cannot be imagined so strange and vicious, but that nature must have a

hand in it. And then how easy a thing is it to satisfy the fancy? In my

opinion; this part wholly carries it, at least, above all the rest. The

most grievous and ordinary evils are those that fancy loads us with; this

Spanish saying pleases me in several aspects:

"Defenda me Dios de me."

["God defend me from myself."]

I am sorry when I am sick, that I have not some longing that might give

me the pleasure of satisfying it; all the rules of physic would hardly be

able to divert me from it. I do the same when I am well; I can see very

little more to be hoped or wished for. 'Twere pity a man should be so

weak and languishing, as not to have even wishing left to him.

The art of physic is not so fixed, that we need be without authority for

whatever we do; it changes according to climates and moons, according to

Fernel and to Scaliger.--[Physicians to Henry II.]--If your physician

does not think it good for you to sleep, to drink wine, or to eat such

and such meats, never trouble yourself; I will find you another that

shall not be of his opinion; the diversity of medical arguments and

opinions embraces all sorts and forms. I saw a miserable sick person

panting and burning for thirst, that he might be cured, who was

afterwards laughed at for his pains by another physician, who condemned

that advice as prejudicial to him: had he not tormented himself to good

purpose? There lately died of the stone a man of that profession, who

had made use of extreme abstinence to contend with his disease: his

fellow-physicians say that, on the contrary, this abstinence had dried

him up and baked the gravel in his kidneys.

I have observed, that both in wounds and sicknesses, speaking discomposes

and hurts me, as much as any irregularity I can commit. My voice pains

and tires me, for 'tis loud and forced; so that when I have gone to a

whisper some great persons about affairs of consequence, they have often

desired me to moderate my voice.

This story is worth a diversion. Some one in a certain Greek school

speaking loud as I do, the master of the ceremonies sent to him to speak

softly: "Tell him, then, he must send me," replied the other, "the tone

he would have me speak in." To which the other replied, "That he should

take the tone from the ears of him to whom he spake." It was well said,

if it is to be understood: "Speak according to the affair you are

speaking about to your auditor," for if it mean, "'tis sufficient that he

hear you, or govern yourself by him," I do not find it to be reason. The

tone and motion of my voice carries with it a great deal of the

expression and signification of my meaning, and 'tis I who am to govern

it, to make myself understood: there is a voice to instruct, a voice to

flatter, and a voice to reprehend. I will not only that my voice reach

him, but, peradventure, that it strike and pierce him. When I rate my

valet with sharp and bitter language, it would be very pretty for him to

say; "Pray, master, speak lower; I hear you very well":

"Est quaedam vox ad auditum accommodata,

non magnitudine, sed proprietate."

["There is a certain voice accommodated to the hearing, not by its

loudness, but by its propriety."--Quintilian, xi. 3.]

Speaking is half his who speaks, and half his who hears; the latter

ought to prepare himself to receive it, according to its bias; as with

tennis-players, he who receives the ball, shifts and prepares, according

as he sees him move who strikes the stroke, and according to the stroke

itself.

Experience has, moreover, taught me this, that we ruin ourselves by

impatience. Evils have their life and limits, their diseases and their

recovery.

The constitution of maladies is formed by the pattern of the constitution

of animals; they have their fortune and their days limited from their

birth; he who attempts imperiously to cut them short by force in the

middle of their course, lengthens and multiplies them, and incenses

instead of appeasing them. I am of Crantor's opinion, that we are

neither obstinately and deafly to oppose evils, nor succumb to them from

want of courage; but that we are naturally to give way to them, according

to their condition and our own. We ought to grant free passage to

diseases; I find they stay less with me, who let them alone; and I have

lost some, reputed the most tenacious and obstinate, by their own decay,

without help and without art, and contrary to its rules. Let us a little

permit Nature to take her own way; she better understands her own affairs

than we. But such an one died of it; and so shall you: if not of that

disease, of another. And how many have not escaped dying, who have had

three physicians at their tails? Example is a vague and universal

mirror, and of various reflections. If it be a delicious medicine, take

it: 'tis always so much present good. I will never stick at the name nor

the colour, if it be pleasant and grateful to the palate: pleasure is one

of the chiefest kinds of profit. I have suffered colds, gouty

defluxions, relaxations, palpitations of the heart, megrims, and other

accidents, to grow old and die in time a natural death. I have so lost

them when I was half fit to keep them: they are sooner prevailed upon by

courtesy than huffing. We must patiently suffer the laws of our

condition; we are born to grow old, to grow weak, and to be sick, in

despite of all medicine. 'Tis the first lesson the Mexicans teach their

children; so soon as ever they are born they thus salute them: "Thou art

come into the world, child, to endure: endure, suffer, and say nothing."

'Tis injustice to lament that which has befallen any one which may befall

every one:

"Indignare, si quid in to inique proprio constitutum est."

["Then be angry, when there is anything unjustly decreed against

thee alone."--Seneca, Ep., 91.]

See an old man who begs of God that he will maintain his health vigorous

and entire; that is to say, that he restore him to youth:

"Stulte, quid haec frustra votis puerilibus optas?"

["Fool! why do you vainly form these puerile wishes?"

--Ovid., Trist., 111. 8, II.]

is it not folly? his condition is not capable of it. The gout, the

stone, and indigestion are symptoms of long years; as heat, rains, and

winds are of long journeys. Plato does not believe that AEsculapius

troubled himself to provide by regimen to prolong life in a weak and

wasted body, useless to his country and to his profession, or to beget

healthful and robust children; and does not think this care suitable to

the Divine justice and prudence, which is to direct all things to

utility. My good friend, your business is done; nobody can restore you;

they can, at the most, but patch you up, and prop you a little, and by

that means prolong your misery an hour or two:

"Non secus instantem cupiens fulcire ruinam,

Diversis contra nititur obiicibus;

Donec certa dies, omni compage soluta,

Ipsum cum rebus subruat auxilium."

["Like one who, desiring to stay an impending ruin, places various

props against it, till, in a short time, the house, the props, and

all, giving way, fall together."--Pseudo-Gallus, i. 171.]

We must learn to suffer what we cannot evade; our life, like the harmony

of the world, is composed of contrary things--of diverse tones, sweet and

harsh, sharp and flat, sprightly and solemn: the musician who should only

affect some of these, what would he be able to do? he must know how to

make use of them all, and to mix them; and so we should mingle the goods

and evils which are consubstantial with our life; our being cannot

subsist without this mixture, and the one part is no less necessary to it

than the other. To attempt to combat natural necessity, is to represent

the folly of Ctesiphon, who undertook to kick with his mule.--[Plutarch,

How to restrain Anger, c. 8.]

I consult little about the alterations I feel: for these doctors take

advantage; when they have you at their mercy, they surfeit your ears with

their prognostics; and formerly surprising me, weakened with sickness,

injuriously handled me with their dogmas and magisterial fopperies--one

while menacing me with great pains, and another with approaching death.

Hereby I was indeed moved and shaken, but not subdued nor jostled from my

place; and though my judgment was neither altered nor distracted, yet it

was at least disturbed: 'tis always agitation and combat.

Now, I use my imagination as gently as I can, and would discharge it, if

I could, of all trouble and contest; a man must assist, flatter, and

deceive it, if he can; my mind is fit for that office; it needs no

appearances throughout: could it persuade as it preaches, it would

successfully relieve me. Will you have an example? It tells me: "that

'tis for my good to have the stone: that the structure of my age must

naturally suffer some decay, and it is now time it should begin to

disjoin and to confess a breach; 'tis a common necessity, and there is

nothing in it either miraculous or new; I therein pay what is due to old

age, and I cannot expect a better bargain; that society ought to comfort

me, being fallen into the most common infirmity of my age; I see

everywhere men tormented with the same disease, and am honoured by the

fellowship, forasmuch as men of the best quality are most frequently

afflicted with it: 'tis a noble and dignified disease: that of such as

are struck with it, few have it to a less degree of pain; that these are

put to the trouble of a strict diet and the daily taking of nauseous

potions, whereas I owe my better state purely to my good fortune; for

some ordinary broths of eringo or burst-wort that I have twice or thrice

taken to oblige the ladies, who, with greater kindness than my pain was

sharp, would needs present me half of theirs, seemed to me equally easy

to take and fruitless in operation, the others have to pay a thousand

vows to AEsculapius, and as many crowns to their physicians, for the

voiding a little gravel, which I often do by the aid of nature: even the

decorum of my countenance is not disturbed in company; and I can hold my

water ten hours, and as long as any man in health. The fear of this

disease," says my mind, "formerly affrighted thee, when it was unknown to

thee; the cries and despairing groans of those who make it worse by their

impatience, begot a horror in thee. 'Tis an infirmity that punishes the

members by which thou hast most offended. Thou art a conscientious

fellow;"

"Quae venit indigne poena, dolenda venit:"

["We are entitled to complain of a punishment that we have not

deserved."--Ovid, Heroid., v. 8.]

"consider this chastisement: 'tis very easy in comparison of others, and

inflicted with a paternal tenderness: do but observe how late it comes;

it only seizes on and incommodes that part of thy life which is, one way

and another, sterile and lost; having, as it were by composition, given

time for the licence and pleasures of thy youth. The fear and the

compassion that the people have of this disease serve thee for matter of

glory; a quality whereof if thou bast thy judgment purified, and that thy

reason has somewhat cured it, thy friends notwithstanding, discern some

tincture in thy complexion. 'Tis a pleasure to hear it said of oneself

what strength of mind, what patience! Thou art seen to sweat with pain,

to turn pale and red, to tremble, to vomit blood, to suffer strange

contractions and convulsions, at times to let great tears drop from thine

eyes, to urine thick, black, and dreadful water, or to have it suppressed

by some sharp and craggy stone, that cruelly pricks and tears the neck of

the bladder, whilst all the while thou entertainest the company with an

ordinary countenance; droning by fits with thy people; making one in a

continuous discourse, now and then making excuse for thy pain, and

representing thy suffering less than it is. Dost thou call to mind the

men of past times, who so greedily sought diseases to keep their virtue

in breath and exercise? Put the case that nature sets thee on and impels

thee to this glorious school, into which thou wouldst never have entered

of thy own free will. If thou tellest me that it is a dangerous and

mortal disease, what others are not so? for 'tis a physical cheat to

expect any that they say do not go direct to death: what matters if they

go thither by accident, or if they easily slide and slip into the path

that leads us to it? But thou dost not die because thou art sick; thou

diest because thou art living: death kills thee without the help of

sickness: and sickness has deferred death in some, who have lived longer

by reason that they thought themselves always dying; to which may be

added, that as in wounds, so in diseases, some are medicinal and

wholesome. The stone is often no less long-lived than you; we see men

with whom it has continued from their infancy even to their extreme old

age; and if they had not broken company, it would have been with them

longer still; you more often kill it than it kills you. And though it

should present to you the image of approaching death, were it not a good

office to a man of such an age, to put him in mind of his end? And,

which is worse, thou hast no longer anything that should make thee desire

to be cured. Whether or no, common necessity will soon call thee away.

Do but consider how skilfully and gently she puts thee out of concern

with life, and weans thee from the world; not forcing thee with a

tyrannical subjection, like so many other infirmities which thou seest

old men afflicted withal, that hold them in continual torment, and keep

them in perpetual and unintermitted weakness and pains, but by warnings

and instructions at intervals, intermixing long pauses of repose, as it

were to give thee opportunity to meditate and ruminate upon thy lesson,

at thy own ease and leisure. To give thee means to judge aright, and to

assume the resolution of a man of courage, it presents to thee the state

of thy entire condition, both in good and evil; and one while a very

cheerful and another an insupportable life, in one and the same day. If

thou embracest not death, at least thou shakest hands with it once a

month; whence thou hast more cause to hope that it will one day surprise

thee without menace; and that being so often conducted to the water-side,

but still thinking thyself to be upon the accustomed terms, thou and thy

confidence will at one time or another be unexpectedly wafted over. A

man cannot reasonably complain of diseases that fairly divide the time

with health."

Essays of Michel de Montaigne — Volume 19 · 第 2 / 5 段