the essays of montaigne, v17-第17章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


for　other　magistrates；　but　we　must；　notwithstanding；　obey　those　we　have；
and；　peradventure；　'tis　more　laudable　to　obey　the　bad　than　the　good。　　So
long　as　the　image　of　the　ancient　and　received　laws　of　this　monarchy　shall
shine　in　any　corner　of　the　kingdom；　there　will　I　be。　　If　they
unfortunately　happen　to　thwart　and　contradict　one　another；　so　as　to
produce　two　parts；　of　doubtful　and　difficult　choice；　I　will　willingly
choose　to　withdraw　and　escape　the　tempest；　in　the　meantime　nature　or　the
hazards　of　war　may　lend　me　a　helping　hand。　　Betwixt　Caesar　and　Pompey；
I　should　frankly　have　declared　myself；　but；　as　amongst　the　three　robbers
who　came　after；　＇Octavius；　Mark　Antony；　and　Lepidus。＇　a　man　must　have
been　necessitated　either　to　hide　himself；　or　have　gone　along　with　the
current　of　the　time；　which　I　think　one　may　fairly　do　when　reason　no
longer　guides：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃Quo　diversus　abis？〃

　　　　　　　　　　＇〃Whither　dost　thou　run　wandering？〃AEneid；　v。　166。＇

This　medley　is　a　little　from　my　theme；　I　go　out　of　my　way；　but　'tis
rather　by　licence　than　oversight；　my　fancies　follow　one　another；　but
sometimes　at　a　great　distance；　and　look　towards　one　another；　but　'tis
with　an　oblique　glance。　　I　have　read　a　dialogue　of　Plato；＇The
Phaedrus。＇　of　the　like　motley　and　fantastic　composition；　the　beginning
about　love；　and　all　the　rest　to　the　end　about　rhetoric；　they　fear　not
these　variations；　and　have　a　marvellous　grace　in　letting　themselves　be
carried　away　at　the　pleasure　of　the　wind；　or　at　least　to　seem　as　if　they
were。　　The　titles　of　my　chapters　do　not　always　comprehend　the　whole
matter；　they　often　denote　it　by　some　mark　only；　as　these　others；　Andria；
Eunuchus；　or　these；　Sylla；　Cicero；　Toyquatus。　　I　love　a　poetic　progress；
by　leaps　and　skips；　'tis　an　art；　as　Plato　says；　light；　nimble；　demoniac。
There　are　pieces　in　Plutarch　where　he　forgets　his　theme；　where　the
proposition　of　his　argument　is　only　found　by　incidence；　stuffed　and　half
stifled　in　foreign　matter。　　Observe　his　footsteps　in　the　Daemon　of
Socrates。　　O　God！　　how　beautiful　are　these　frolicsome　sallies；　those
variations　and　digressions；　and　all　the　more　when　they　seem　most
fortuitous　and　careless。　　'Tis　the　indiligent　reader　who　loses　my
subject；　and　not　I；　there　will　always　be　found　some　word　or　other　in　a
corner　that　is　to　the　purpose；　though　it　lie　very　close。　　I　ramble
indiscreetly　and　tumultuously；　my　style　and　my　wit　wander　at　the　same
rate。　　He　must　fool　it　a　little　who　would　not　be　deemed　wholly　a　fool；
say　both　the　precepts；　and；　still　more；　the　examples　of　our　masters。　　A
thousand　poets　flag　and　languish　after　a　prosaic　manner；　but　the　best　old
prose　（and　I　strew　it　here　up　and　down　indifferently　for　verse）　shines
throughout　with　the　lustre；　vigour；　and　boldness　of　poetry；　and　not
without　some　air　of　its　fury。　　And　certainly　prose　ought　to　have　the　pre…
eminence　in　speaking。　　The　poet；　says　Plato；　seated　upon　the　muses
tripod；　pours　out　with　fury　whatever　comes　into　his　mouth；　like　the　pipe
of　a　fountain；　without　considering　and　weighing　it；　and　things　escape　him
of　various　colours；　of　contrary　substance；　and　with　an　irregular　torrent。
Plato　himself　is　throughout　poetical；　and　the　old　theology；　as　the
learned　tell　us；　is　all　poetry；　and　the　first　philosophy　is　the　original
language　of　the　gods。　　I　would　have　my　matter　distinguish　itself；　it
sufficiently　shows　where　it　changes；　where　it　concludes；　where　it　begins；
and　where　it　rejoins；　without　interlacing　it　with　words　of　connection
introduced　for　the　relief　of　weak　or　negligent　ears；　and　without
explaining　myself。　　Who　is　he　that　had　not　rather　not　be　read　at　all　than
after　a　drowsy　or　cursory　manner？

　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃Nihil　est　tam　utile；　quod　intransitu　prosit。〃

　　　　　　　　　　＇〃Nothing　is　so　useful　as　that　which　is　cursorily　so。〃
　　　　　　　　　　Seneca；　Ep。；　2。＇

If　to　take　books　in　hand　were　to　learn　them：　to　look　upon　them　were　to
consider　them：　and　to　run　these　slightly　over　were　to　grasp　them；　I　were
then　to　blame　to　make　myself　out　so　ignorant　as　I　say　I　am。　　Seeing　I
cannot　fix　the　attention　of　my　reader　by　the　weight　of　what　I　write；
'manco　male'；　if　I　should　chance　to　do　it　by　my　intricacies。　　〃Nay；　but
he　will　afterwards　repent　that　he　ever　perplexed　himself　about　it。〃
'Tis　very　true；　but　he　will　yet　be　there　perplexed。　　And；　besides；　there
are　some　humours　in　which　comprehension　produces　disdain；　who　will　think
better　of　me　for　not　understanding　what　I　say；　and　will　conclude　the
depth　of　my　sense　by　its　obscurity；　which；　to　speak　in　good　sooth；　I
mortally　hate；　and　would　avoid　it　if　I　could。　　Aristotle　boasts　somewhere
in　his　writings　that　he　affected　it：　a　vicious　affectation。　　The　frequent
breaks　into　chapters　that　I　made　my　method　in　the　beginning　of　my　book；
having　since　seemed　to　me　to　dissolve　the　attention　before　it　was　raised；
as　making　it　disdain　to　settle　itself　to　so　little；　I；　upon　that　account；
have　made　them　longer；　such　as　require　proposition　and　assigned　leisure。
In　such　an　employment；　to　whom　you　will　not　give　an　hour　you　give
nothing；　and　you　do　nothing　for　him　for　whom　you　only　do　it　whilst　you
are　doing　something　else。　　To　which　may　be　added　that　I　have；
peradventure；　some　particular　obligation　to　speak　only　by　halves；　to
speak　confusedly　and　discordantly。　　I　am　therefore　angry　at　this　trouble…
feast　reason；　and　its　extravagant　projects　that　worry　one's　life；　and　its
opinions；　so　fine　and　subtle；　though　they　be　all　true；　I　think　too　dear
bought　and　too　inconvenient。　　On　the　contrary；　I　make　it　my　business　to
bring　vanity　itself　in　repute；　and　folly　too；　if　it　produce　me　any
pleasure；　and　let　myself　follow　my　own　natural　inclinations；　without
carrying　too　strict　a　hand　upon　them。

I　have　seen　elsewhere　houses　in　ruins；　and　statues　both　of　gods　and　men：
these　are　men　still。　　'Tis　all　true；　and　yet；　for　all　that；　I　cannot　so
often　revisit　the　tomb　of　that　so　great　and　so　puissant　city；＇Rome＇
that　I　do　not　admire　and　reverence　it。　　The　care　of　the　dead　is
recommended　to　us；　now；　I　have　been　bred　up　from　my　infancy　with　these
dead；　I　had　knowledge　of　the　affairs　of　Rome　long　before　I　had　any　of
those　of　my　own　house；　I　knew　the　Capitol　and　its　plan　before　I　knew　the
Louvre；　and　the　Tiber　before　I　knew　the　Seine。　　The　qualities　and
fortunes　of　Lucullus；　Metellus；　and　Scipio　have　ever　run　more　in　my　head
than　those　of　any　of　my　own　country；　they　are　all　dead；　so　is　my　father
as　absolutely　dead　as　they；　and　is　removed　as　far　from　me　and　life　in
eighteen　years　as　they　are　in　sixteen　hundred：　whose　memory；
nevertheless；　friendship　and　society；　I　do　not　cease　to　embrace　and
utilise　with　a　perfect　and　lively　union。　　Nay；　of　my　own　inclination；　I
pay　more　service　to　the　dead；　they　can　no　longer　help　themselves；　and
therefore；　methinks；　the　more　require　my　assistance：　'tis　there　that
gratitude　appears　in　its　full　lustre。　　The　benefit　is　not　so　generously
bestowed；　where　there　is　retrogradation　and　reflection。　　Arcesilaus；
going　to　visit　Ctesibius；　who　was　sick；　and　finding　him　in　a　very　poor
condition；　very　finely　conveyed　some　money　under　his　pillow；　and；　by
concealing　it　from　him；　acquitted　him；　moreover；　from　the　acknowledgment
due　to　such　a　benefit。　　Such　as　have　merited　from　me　friendship　and
gratitude　have　never　lost　these　by　being　no　more；　I　have　better　and　more
carefully　paid　them　when　gone　and　ignorant　of　what　I　did；　I　speak　most
affectionately　of　my　friends　when　they　can　no　longer　know　it。　　I　have　had
a　hundred　quarrels　in　defending　Pompey　and　for　the　cause　of　Brutus；　this
acquaintance　yet　continues　betwixt　us；　we　have　no　other　hold　even　on
present　things　but　by　fancy。　　Finding　myself　of　no　use　to　this　age；　I
throw　myself　back　upon　that　other；　and　am　so　enamoured　of　it；　that　the
free；　just；　and　flourishing　state　of　that　ancient　Rome　（for　I　neither
love　it　in　its　birth　nor　its　old　age）　interests　and　impassionates　me；
and　therefore　I　cannot　so　often　revisit　the　sites　of　their　streets　and
houses；　and　those　ruins　profound　even　to　the　Antipodes；　that　I　am　not
interested　in　them。　　Is　it　by　nature；　or　through　error　of　fancy；　that　the
sight　of　places　which　we　know　to　have　been　frequented　and　inhabited