The chief ability of CHAPTER II. Of three Commerces, i. e. Familiarities with Men, WE must not rivet ourselves so fast to our huthe human mours and complexions. Our chief sufficiency is to know how to apply ourselves to various customs. standing. For a man to keep himself tied and bound, by neces under sity, to one only course, is but bare existence, not living. Those are the most amiable tempers which are more variable and flexible. It was an honourable character of the elder Cato, Huic versatile ingenium sic pariter ad omnia fuit, ut natum ad id unum diceres, quodcumque ageret:* "He had parts so flexible to 66 every thing, that whatsoever he took in hand, a "man would be apt to say he was formed by nature "for that very thing only." Were I to choose for myself, there is no fashion so good that I would care to be so wedded to, as not to have it in my power to disengage myself from it. Life is a motion uneven, irregular, and various.)\A man is not his own friend, much less his own master, but rather a slave to himself, who is eternally pursuing his own humour, and such a bigot to his inclinations, that he is not able to turn aside from them. I speak it now at this time of life, when I find it hard to disengage myself from the uneasiness of my mind, by reason that it cannot amuse itself generally, but in things wherein it is embarrassed, nor employ itself because it is so cramped and inflexible. It is apt to magnify a slight subject, and stretches it to such a degree, as to require the application of all its strength. Its inactivity is therefore to me a painful labour, and prejudicial to my health. The minds of most men require foreign matter to quicken and exercise them; mine * Tit. Liv. lib. xxxix. cap. 40. has need of it rather to compose and settle it, Vitia otii negotio discutienda sunt:* "The vices owing to "sloth are to be shaken off by business;" for my most painful, as well as principal study, is to study myself. Books are one sort of those employments that divert me from this study. Upon the first thoughts, which come into my mind, it bustles and makes trial of its vigour in every respect; exercises its feeling quality, sometimes towards force, at other times towards order and beauty, and then ranges, moderates, and fortifies itself. It has in itself wherewith to rouse its faculties. Nature has given to it, as to all other men's, matter enough of its own for its benefit, and subjects proper enough both for its invention and judgment. an impor Meditation, for a man who can inspect and exert Meditation himself with vigour, is a powerful and copious study. tant em I had rather frame my mind than furnish it. There ployment, is no employment, either more weak or more strong, than that of entertaining a man's thoughts according to the state of his mind. The greatest men make it their profession, Quibus vivere est cogitare :† "To "whom to live and to think, are one and the same "thing." Nature has also favoured man with this privilege, that there is nothing we can hold out in so long, nor any action to which we more commonly, and more readily incline. It is the business of the gods, says Aristotle, and that from which proceeds both their bliss and ours. tentive to tion. The principal use of reading to me is that, by the Montaigne variety of subjects, it keeps my reason awake, and was inatemploys my judgment, not my memory. Few con- frivolous versations therefore please me, if there be not life conversa. and power in them. It is true, that the gracefulness and elegance of a speech captivate and engross my attention as much, or more than the importance or weight of the subject: and as I am apt to be sleepy in all other conversation, and give but little atten Senec. ep. 59. + Cic. Tusc. Quæst. lib. v. cap. 38. Too delicate in his Conversa the gene tion thereto, it often happens that in such poor, low discourse, and insipid chat, I either make drowsy, stupid, and ridiculous answers, unbecoming even a child, or else more indiscreetly and rudely maintain an obstinate silence. I am on the one hand of a pensive temper, which makes me absent from all but myself; and on the other hand have a stupid and childish ignorance of many common things. By these two qualities I have obtained that five or six as silly stories may as truly be reported of me as of any other person whatsoever. I But to pursue my subject, this difficult temper of mine renders me very delicate of what company tion with keep, whom I am obliged to examine nicely, and am rality of therefore unfit for common society. We live and mankind. trade with the commonalty. If their conversation be troublesome to us, if we disdain to apply ourselves to mean and vulgar souls (and such are often as regular as the most delicate, and all wisdom is insipid that does not accommodate itself to the stupidity of the vulgar), we must no longer intermeddle either with our own affairs, or those of other men; for those, both of a public and private nature, are dispatched with those people. The motions of the soul, that are the least forced and the most natural, are the most beautiful. Good God! what a vast service wisdom does to those whose desires it reduces within their power! There is no part of knowledge more profitable. "As much as lies in our power,' was the favourite maxim and motto of Socrates. A phrase of great moment this; for we must adapt and divert our desires to things that are the nearest, and most easy to be acquired. Is it not a silly humour of mine to separate from a thousand, to whom fortune has joined me, and without whom I cannot live, and stick to one or two that are out of the sphere of my correspondence? Or rather is it not a fantastical desire of a thing which I can never recover? My gentle behaviour, an enemy to all bitterness and moroseness, may easily have secured me from envy and animosity; for never man gave more occasion, to be beloved I will not say, but not to be hated; yet the coldness of my conversation has justly deprived me of the good will of many, who are not to be blamed though they should put another and a worse construction upon it. passionate fied to cul I am very capable of acquiring, and maintaining Montaigne friendships that are exquisite and uncommon; for as ly fond of I am eager to close in with such acquaintance as suit exquisite my taste, I throw myself without reserve into their friendarms with such rapture that I can hardly fail to stick not qualito them, and to make an impression where I fasten; tivate comand this I have often found by happy experience. mon friendTo common friendships I am in some measure cold and indifferent, for my course is not natural if it be not with a full sail; besides, my fortune having trained me from my youth, and tempted me to love one single and perfect friendship, it has indeed, in some measure, put me out of conceit with others; and too much imprinted it on my fancy that, as one of the ancients said, such vulgar companions are the beasts of the company, though not of the herd. I have also a natural aversion to communicate myself by halves, and with that modification, servile and jealous prudence, which are prescribed to us in the case of numerous and imperfect friendships. And this is enjoined chiefly in the present age, when it is impossible to speak of mankind without danger or mistake. know how persons Yet I plainly see, that he who has the conveni-How useful ences (I mean the essential conveniences) of life for it is to his end, as I have, ought to shun these difficulties to treat all and delicacies of humour as much as the plague. Imanner of would commend a mind of various qualities, which with fami knows both to strain and slacken its vigour, that finds liarity. itself at ease in all stages of fortune, a man that can discourse with his neighbour about his building, hunting, or quarrel, and that takes pleasure in chatting with a carpenter, or a gardener. I envy those who can condescend to a familiarity with the meanest ourselves those we converse with. of their servants, and to hold a conversation with Et pugnata sacro bella sub Ilio: Mercemur, quis aquam temperet ignibus Quo præbente domum, et quotâ Pelignis caream frigoribus, taces.† It is neces- Thus, as the valour of the Lacedæmonians stood sary to put in need of being moderated, and of the sweet and on an equa- harmonious sound of flutes to mollify them in battle, lity with lest they should be guilty of temerity and fury, whereas all other nations commonly make use of strong and shrill sounds and voices, which excite and inflame the soldier's courage to the last degree; so methinks that, contrary to the usual form, in the exercise of our minds we have more need of ballast than sail, of coldness and calmness than of heat and hurry. Above all things, it is my opinion, egregiously playing the fool, to make a parade of wit * Magisterial language to servants censured, De Legibus, lib. vi. p. 872, edit. Francfort, 1602. + Horace, ode 19, lib. iii. ver. 2, &c. |