The Complete Essays (161 page)

[C] I am no philosopher: ills crush me in proportion to their weight, and they weigh as much by their manner as their matter, often more I know them better than ordinary people do and so bear them better; but in the end, though they do not wound me they do strike me. Life is a delicate thing, easy to disturb.
‘Nemo enim resistit sibi cum coeperit impelli’
[No one can stop himself once he yields to the first impulse]:
¹⁸
[B] once my face is turned towards chagrin, no matter how silly the cause which brought me to be so, I goad my humour in that direction. Thereafter it nourishes itself, provoking itself under its own impetus, drawing to itself and piling up matter upon matter on which to feed:

Stillicidi casus lapidem cavat
.
[Water dripping drop by drop makes fissures in a stone.]

Those everyday fissures eat into me. [C] Everyday irritations are never slight. They are constant and irremediable, particularly when they arise from the cares of your estates, which are constant and unavoidable.

[B] When I consider my affairs overall and from a distance I find (perhaps because my memory of them is hardly a detailed one) that they have, up to the present, gone on prospering beyond my projections or calculations; I seem to be getting more out than is there: their happy state misleads me. But once I am involved in the job and watching the progress of all the details–

Turn vero in curas animum diducimur omnes
[Our souls torn asunder by all our cares]

– thousands of things cause me to hope or to fear. It is exceptionally easy for me to abandon them completely: dealing with them without anguish is exceptionally hard. It is wretched to be in a place where everything you see makes work for you and concerns you. I believe I am more happy when enjoying the pleasures of someone’s else’s house, and that I bring a more innocent taste to them. [C] When asked what kind of wine he thought best, Diogenes replied, ‘Someone else’s’.
¹⁹
I agree with that.

[B] My father loved building at Montaigne, where he was born. In all my government of my domestic affairs I like to follow his precept and
example, and as far as I can I will impose that duty on my successors. If I could do better for him I would. I glory in the fact that his wishes are still effective and implemented by me. God forbid that I should allow to fail in my hands any ghost of life which I could give to so good a father. The fact that I have bothered to complete some old section of wall and repair some botched bit of building has certainly been more out of regard for his intention than my contentment. [C] And I reproach my own laziness for not having gone on to complete the fine things he started in this house of his, the more so since I am most likely to be the last of my stock to own it and to give it a final touch. [B] As for my own inclinations, neither the pleasures of building (which are supposed to be so attractive) nor of hunting nor of laying out gardens, nor the other pleasure of life in the country, can keep me much occupied. I think ill of myself for this, as I do for all opinions which are disadvantageous to me. I do not so much care about having vigorous and informed opinions as having easy ones, convenient to live with; [C] they are true and sound enough if they are useful and pleasant.

[B] Those who, when they hear me tell of my inadequacies for the tasks of managing my estates, proceed to yell in my ears that it is due to disdain and that I cannot be bothered to learn the names of the tools used in husbandry, nor about its seasons and succession of tasks, nor how my wines are made, how grafting is done, the names of plants and fruits and the ways of preparing them for the table, [C] nor the names and quality of the cloth I wear, [B] because my mind is full of some higher knowledge, do me mortal wrong. That would be silly, more stupid than glorious. I would
²⁰
rather be a good equerry than a good logician:

Quin tu aliquid saltern potius Quorum indiget usus,
Viminibus mollique paras detexere junco?

[Why do you not do something useful, like making baskets of wickerwork or pliant reeds?]
²¹

[C] We confuse our thoughts with generalities, universal causes and processes which proceed quite well without us, and leave behind our own concerns for
Michel,
²²
which touch us even more intimately than Man.

[B] Now usually I do remain at home; but I could wish that I were happier there than elsewhere.

Sit meœ sedes utinam senectœ,
Sit modus lasso maris, et viarum,
                Militiœque
.

[May it be my final haven when I am weary of the sea, of roaming and of war.]
²³

I do not know whether I shall manage to struggle through. I wish that, in lieu of some other part of his inheritance, my father had bequeathed me that passionate love for the running of his estates which he had in his old age. He was most successful in limiting his desires to his means and in knowing how to be content with what he had. If only I can acquire the taste for it as he did, then political philosophy can, if it will, condemn me for the lowliness and barrenness of my occupation. I do believe that the most [C] honourable [B] vocation
²⁴
is to serve the commonwealth and to be useful to many. [C]
‘Fructus enim ingenii et virtutis omnisque prœstantiœ tum maximus accipitur, cum in proximum quemque confertur.’
[The fruits of intellect and virtue and of all outstanding talents are best employed when shared with one’s neighbour.]
²⁵
[B] But where I am concerned I renounce my share, partly from self-awareness (which enables me to see both the weight attached to such vocations and the scant means I have of providing for them) – [C] even that master-theoretician of all political government Plato did not fail to abstain from it himself– [B] partly from laziness. I am content to enjoy the world without being over-occupied with it and to lead a life which is no more than excusable, neither a burden to myself nor to others.

No man ever entrusted his affairs more fully and passively into the care and control of another than I would do if only I had someone available. One of my wishes now would be to find me a son-in-law who would fill my beak, comfort my final years and lull them to sleep, into whose hands I could resign the control and use of my goods, with complete sovereignty to do with them as I do, getting out of them what I do now – provided that he brought to it a truly grateful and loving affection. Yes: but we live in a world where the loyalty of one’s own children is unheard of.

When I am on my travels, whoever has my purse has full charge of it without supervision. He could cheat me just as well if I kept accounts,
and, unless he is a devil, by such reckless trust I oblige him to be honest. [C]
‘Multi fallere docuerunt, dum tintent falli, et aliis jus pec-candi suspicando fecerunt.’
[Many by their fear of being cheated have taught others to cheat; others have found justification for wrong-doing in suspicion thrown upon them.]
²⁶
[B] The surety I most usually have for my servants is my own ignorance. (I never assume defects until I have seen them, and I trust the young more, reckoning that they are less corrupted by bad example.) I prefer hearing after two months that I have spent four hundred crowns than having my ears battered every morning with three, five or seven. Yet [C] by larcenies of that kind [B] I have been as little robbed as anyone. True, I lend my ignorance a helping hand. I consciously encourage my knowledge of my money to be somewhat vague and uncertain; Up to a point I am pleased to be unsure about it. You should leave a little room for the improvidence or dishonesty of your manservant. On condition that there should remain, by and large, enough for us to do what we want, let us allow the surplus of Fortune’s liberality to flow on a little farther at her behest – [C] the gleaner’s portion.
²⁷
After all I do not prize the faithfulness of my men more than I disprize their wronging me. [B] Oh, what a servile and silly care is care for your money, loving to handle it, weigh it, count it over. That is the way miserliness makes its advances.

I have been in charge of property for the last eighteen years but have never yet got myself to look into my title-deeds nor into my principal affairs which must needs be transacted with my knowledge and attention. This is no philosophical contempt for the transitory things of this world: my taste has not been so purified as that. At the very least I value such things at their worth. It is a case, most certainly, of inexcusable and puerile
²⁸
[C] laziness and negligence. What would I not do to avoid reading through a contract and shaking the dust off piles of papers, a slave to my affairs and, worse still, a slave to other people’s, like so many folk who do it for the money! For me nothing is expensive save toil and worry: all I want is to be indifferent and bovine.

[B] I was made, I think, more for living off somebody else, if that could be done without servitude and obligation. And when I look at things closely I am not sure whether, for a man of my temperament and station,
what I have to put up with from business and agents and servants does not entail more degradation, bother and bitterness than there would be in following a man born greater than I who would give me a bit of guidance and comfort. [C]
‘Servitus obedientia est fracti animi et abjecti.’
[Slavery is the obedience of a weak and despondent mind lacking in will.]
²⁹

[B] When Crates, to rid himself of the cares and indignities of his home, jumped into the freedom of poverty, he made things worse.
³⁰
That I would never do. I loathe poverty on a par with pain. But I would indeed exchange that first sort of existence for another less grand and less busy.

Once I am away I slough off all such preoccupations: I would feel it less then if a tower collapsed than I feel the fall of a tile when I am there. Once I am away my soul can easily find detachment: when I am there she frets like a wine-grower’s. [C] A twisted rein on my horse or a stirrup-strap knocking against my leg can put me out of humour for an entire day. [B] In face of difficulties I can lift up my thoughts but not my eyes.

Sensus, O superi, sensus
.

[Feelings, ye gods! Feelings!]
³¹

It is I who am responsible when anything goes wrong at home. There are few masters – I mean of my middle station (and if there are any at all the luckier they are) who are able to rely on anyone else without retaining most of the load. That [C] somewhat detracts from the way I treat visitors (though I may have made the odd one stay on, as bores do, more for my cuisine than for my charm); and it [B] considerably detracts from the pleasure I ought to take in visits and gatherings of friends in my house.

A gentleman in his own home never looks so [C] silly [B] as when
³²
he is seen to be preoccupied with the arrangements, having a word in a manservant’s ear or casting threatening glances at another: such arrangements should flow unnoticed and suggest a normal pattern. And I
find it ugly to discuss with your guests the way you are treating them, either to apologize or to boast.

Order and cleanliness I love –

et cantharus et lanx
        Ostendunt mihi me

[I can see my reflection in tankard and plate]
³³

– on a par with abundance; in my own home I am punctilious about necessities but have little regard for ostentation. When you are in somebody else’s house and a servant brawls or a dish is spilled you simply laugh; and while My Lord settles tomorrow’s arrangements for you with his butler you can doze off.

[C] I am speaking for myself: I do not fail to realize how great a pastime it generally is for certain natures to run their households quietly and prosperously, all done with regularity and order. I do not wish to attribute my own mistakes and shortcomings to the thing itself nor to contradict Plato’s contention that the happiest occupation for any man is to manage his private concerns without injustice.
³⁴

[B] When on my travels I have to think only of me – and how to spend my money (one injunction can see to that). To amass a fortune you need too many talents: I know nothing about that. I know a bit about spending it and making a good show of my expenditure – which is indeed its principal use – but I strive a bit too ambitiously over it, which makes my spending uneven and misshapen, given to excess at both extremes. If it makes a parade, if it serves a purpose, I let myself be carried away injudiciously: and just as injudiciously I close up tight if it has no gleam and does not beam on me.

Whether it is art or nature which stamps on us that characteristic of living by what others say, it does us much more harm than good. We cheat ourselves of what is rightly useful to us in order to conform our appearances to the common opinion. We are not so much concerned with what the actual nature of our being is within us, as with how it is perceived by the public. Even wisdom and the good things of the mind seem fruitless to us if we enjoy them by ourselves, if they are not paraded before the approving eyes of others. Men there are whose gold flows unnoticed, swishing through great caverns underground: others spread theirs widely –all sheets of gold-leaf – so that the pennies of some are worth the guineas of
others and vice versa, the world judging worth and expenditure by their show.