Essays of Michel de Montaigne - 050

not believe that they spoke in earnest of so vain a thing. Plutarch
says the same of metaphysics. And Epicurus would have said as much
of rhetoric, grammar, poetry, mathematics, and, natural philosophy
excepted, of all the sciences; and Socrates of them all, excepting that
which treats of manners and of life. Whatever any one required to be
instructed in, by him, he would ever, in the first place, demand
an account of the conditions of his life present and past, which he
examined and judged, esteeming all other learning subsequent to that
and supernumerary: _Parum mihi placeant eæ littero quo ad virtutem
doctoribus nihil pro-fuerunt._ “That learning is in small repute with me
which nothing profited the teachers themselves to virtue.” Most of the
arts have been in like manner decried by the same knowledge; but they
did not consider that it was from the purpose to exercise their wits in
those very matters wherein there was no solid advantage.
As to the rest, some have looked upon Plato as a dogmatist, others as a
doubter, others in some things the one, and in other things the other.
Socrates, the conductor of his dialogues, is eternally upon questions
and stirring up disputes, never determining, never satisfying, and
professes to have no other science but that of opposing himself. Homer,
their author, has equally laid the foundations of all the sects of
philosophy, to show how indifferent it was which way we should choose.
‘Tis said that ten several sects sprung from Plato; yet, in my opinion,
never did any instruction halt and stumble, if his does not.
Socrates said that midwives, in taking upon them the trade of helping
others to bring forth, left the trade of bringing forth themselves; and
that by the title of a wise man or sage, which the gods had conferred
upon him, he was disabled, in his virile and mental love, of the faculty
of bringing forth, contenting himself to help and assist those that
could; to open their nature, anoint the passes, and facilitate their
birth; to judge of the infant, baptize, nourish, fortify, swath, and
circumcise it, exercising and employing his understanding in the perils
and fortunes of others.
It is so with the most part of this third sort of authors, as the
ancients have observed in the writings of Anaxagoras, Democritus,
Parmenides, Xenophanes, and others. They have a way of writing, doubtful
in substance and design, rather inquiring than teaching, though they mix
their style with some dogmatical periods. Is not the same thing seen in
Seneca and Plutarch? How many contradictions are there to be found if a
man pry narrowly into them! So many that the reconciling lawyers ought
first to reconcile them every one to themselves. Plato seems to have
affected this method of philosophizing in dialogues; to the end that he
might with greater decency, from several mouths, deliver the diversity
and variety of his own fancies. It is as well to treat variously of
things as to treat of them conformably, and better, that is to say, more
copiously and with greater profit. Let us take example from ourselves:
judgments are the utmost point of all dogmatical and determinative
speaking; and yet those _arrets_ that our parliaments give the people,
the most exemplary of them, and those most proper to nourish in them the
reverence due to that dignity, principally through the sufficiency of
the persons acting, derive their beauty not so much from the conclusion,
which with them is quotidian and common to every judge, as from the
dispute and heat of divers and contrary arguments that the matter of law
and equity will permit And the largest field for reprehension that
some philosophers have against others is drawn from the diversities and
contradictions wherein every one of them finds himself perplexed, either
on purpose to show the vacillation of the human mind concerning every
thing, or ignorantly compelled by the volubility and incomprehensibility
of all matter; which is the meaning of the maxim--“In a slippery and
sliding place let us suspend our belief;” for, as Euripides says,--

“God’s various works perplex the thoughts of men.”

Like that which Empedocles, as if transported with a divine fury, and
compelled by truth, often strewed here and there in his writings: “No,
no, we feel nothing, we see nothing; all things are concealed from
us; there is not one thing of which we can positively say what it is;”
according to the divine saying: _Cogitationes mortalium timidæ, et
incertæ adinventiones nostro et providentice._ “For the thoughts of
mortal men are doubtful; and our devices are but uncertain.” It is not
to be thought strange if men, despairing to overtake what they hunt
after, have not however lost the pleasure of the chase; study being
of itself so pleasant an employment; and so pleasant that amongst the
pleasures, the Stoics forbid that also which proceeds from the exercise
of the mind, will have it curbed, and find a kind of intemperance in too
much knowledge.
Democritus having eaten figs at his table that tasted of honey, fell
presently to considering with himself whence they should derive this
unusual sweetness; and to be satisfied in it, was about to rise from the
table to see the place whence the figs had been gathered; which his maid
observing, and having understood the cause, smilingly told him that “he
need not trouble himself about that, for she had put them into a vessel
in which there had been honey.” He was vexed at this discovery, and that
she had deprived him of the occasion of this inquiry, and robbed his
curiosity of matter to work upon: “Go thy way,” said he, “thou hast done
me an injury; but, for all that, I will seek out the cause as if it
were natural;” and would willingly have found out some true reason for a
false and imaginary effect. This story of a famous and great philosopher
very clearly represents to us that studious passion that puts us upon
the pursuit of things, of the acquisition of which we despair. Plutarch
gives a like example of some one who would not be satisfied in that
whereof he was in doubt, that he might not lose the pleasure of
inquiring into it; like the other who would not that his physician
should allay the thirst of his fever, that he might not lose the
pleasure of quenching it by drinking. _Satius est supervacua discere,
quam nihil._ “‘Tis better to learn more than necessary than nothing at
all.” As in all sorts of feeding, the pleasure of eating is very often
single and alone, and that what we take, which is acceptable to the
palate, is not always nourishing or wholesome; so that which our minds
extract from science does not cease to be pleasant, though there
be nothing in it either nutritive or healthful. Thus they say: “The
consideration of nature is a diet proper for our minds, it raises and
elevates us, makes us disdain low and terrestrial things, by comparing
them with those that are celestial and high. The mere inquisition into
great and occult things is very pleasant, even to those who acquire no
other benefit than the reverence and fear of judging it.” This is
what they profess. The vain image of this sickly curiosity is yet more
manifest in this other example which they so often urge. “Eudoxus wished
and begged of the gods that he might once see the sun near at hand, to
comprehend the form, greatness, and beauty of it; even though he should
thereby be immediately burned.” He would at the price of his life
purchase a knowledge, of which the use and possession should at the same
time be taken from him; and for this sudden and vanishing knowledge
lose all the other knowledge he had in present, or might afterwards have
acquired.
I cannot easily persuade myself that Epicurus, Plato, and Pytagoras,
have given us their atom, idea and numbers, for current pay. They were
too wise to establish their articles of faith upon things so disputable
and uncertain. But in that obscurity and ignorance in which the world
then was, every one of these great men endeavoured to present some kind
of image or reflection of light, and worked their brains for inventions
that might have a pleasant and subtle appearance; provided that, though
false, they might make good their ground against those that would oppose
them. _Unicuique ista pro ingenio finguntur, non ex scientiæ vi._ “These
things every one fancies according to his wit, and not by any power of
knowledge.”
One of the ancients, who was reproached, “That he professed philosophy,
of which he nevertheless in his own judgment made no great account,”
made answer, “That this was truly to philosophize.”
They wished to consider all, to balance every thing, and found that an
employment well suited to our natural curiosity. Some things they wrote
for the benefit of public society, as their religions; and for that
consideration it was but reasonable that they should not examine public
opinions to the quick, that they might not disturb the common obedience
to the laws and customs of their country.
Plato treats of this mystery with a raillery manifest enough; for where
he writes according to his own method he gives no certain rule. When he
plays the legislator he borrows a magisterial and positive style, and
boldly there foists in his most fantastic inventions, as fit to persuade
the vulgar, as impossible to be believed by himself; knowing very well
how fit we are to receive all sorts of impressions, especially the most
immoderate and preposterous; and yet, in his _Laws_, he takes singular
care that nothing be sung in public but poetry, of which the fiction and
fabulous relations tend to some advantageous end; it being so easy to
imprint all sorts of phantasms in human minds, that it were injustice
not to feed them rather with profitable untruths than with untruths that
are unprofitable and hurtful. He says very roundly, in his _Republic,_
“That it is often necessary, for the benefit of men, to deceive them.”
It is very easy to distinguish that some of the sects have more followed
truth, and the others utility, by which the last have gained their
reputation. ‘Tis the misery of our condition that often that which
presents itself to our imagination for the truest does not appear the
most useful to life. The boldest sects, as the Epicurean, Pyrrhonian,
and the new Academic, are yet constrained to submit to the civil law at
the end of the account.
There are other subjects that they have tumbled and tossed about, some
to the right and others to the left, every one endeavouring, right or
wrong, to give them some kind of colour; for, having found nothing so
abstruse that they would not venture to speak of, they are very
often forced to forge weak and ridiculous conjectures; not that they
themselves looked upon them as any foundation, or establishing any
certain truth, but merely for exercise. _Non tam id sensisse quod
dicerent, quam exercere ingénia materio difficultate videntur voluisse._
“They seem not so much themselves to have believed what they said, as to
have had a mind to exercise their wits in the difficulty of the
matter.” And if we did not take it thus, how should we palliate so
great inconstancy, variety, and vanity of opinions, as we see have been
produced by those excellent and admirable men? As, for example, what
can be more vain than to imagine, to guess at God, by our analogies and
conjectures? To direct and govern him and the world by our capacities
and our laws? And to serve ourselves, at the expense of the divinity,
with what small portion of capacity he has been pleased to impart to
our natural condition; and because we cannot extend our sight to his
glorious throne, to have brought him down to our corruption and our
miseries?
Of all human and ancient opinions concerning religion, that seems to
me the most likely and most excusable, that acknowledged God as an
incomprehensible power, the original and preserver of all things, all
goodness, all perfection, receiving and taking in good part the honour
and reverence that man paid him, under what method, name, or ceremonies
soever--

Jupiter omnipotens, rerum, regumque, deûmque,
Progenitor, genitrixque.
“Jove, the almighty, author of all things,
The father, mother, of both gods and kings.”

This zeal has universally been looked upon from heaven with a gracious
eye. All governments have reaped fruit from their devotion; impious
men and actions have everywhere had suitable events. Pagan histories
acknowledge dignity, order, justice, prodigies, and oracles, employed
for their profit and instruction in their fabulous religions; God,
through his mercy, vouchsafing, by these temporal benefits, to cherish
the tender principles of a kind of brutish knowledge that natural reason
gave them of him, through the deceiving images of their dreams. Not only
deceiving and false, but impious also and injurious, are those that man
has forged from his own invention: and of all the religions that St.
Paul found in repute at Athens, that which they had dedicated “to the
unknown God” seemed to him the most to be excused.
Pythagoras shadowed the truth a little more closely, judging that
the knowledge of this first cause and being of beings ought to be
indefinite, without limitation, without declaration; that it was nothing
else than the extreme effort of our imagination towards perfection,
every one amplifying the idea according to the talent of his capacity.
But if Numa attempted to conform the devotion of his people to this
project; to attach them to a religion purely mental, without any
prefixed object and material mixture, he undertook a thing of no use;
the human mind could never support itself floating in such an infinity
of inform thoughts; there is required some certain image to be presented
according to its own model. The divine majesty has thus, in some sort,
suffered himself to be circumscribed in corporal limits for our
advantage. His supernatural and celestial sacraments have signs of our
earthly condition; his adoration is by sensible offices and words; for
‘tis man that believes and prays. I shall omit the other arguments upon
this subject; but a man would have much ado to make me believe that the
sight of our crucifixes, that the picture of our Saviour’s passion, that
the ornaments and ceremonious motions of our churches, that the voices
accommodated to the devotion of our thoughts, and that emotion of the
senses, do not warm the souls of the people with a religious passion of
very advantageous effect.
Of those to whom they have given a body, as necessity required in that
universal blindness, I should, I fancy, most incline to those who adored
the sun:--

La Lumière commune,
L’oil du monde; et si Dieu au chef porte des yeux,
Les rayons du soleil sont ses yeulx radieux,
Qui donnent vie à touts, nous maintiennent et gardent,
Et les faictsdes humains en ce monde regardent:
Ce beau, ce grand soleil qui nous faict les saisons,
Selon qu’il entre ou sort de ses douze maisons;
Qui remplit l’univers de ses vertus cognues;
Qui d’un traict de ses yeulx nous dissipe les nues;
L’esprit, l’ame du monde, ardent et flamboyant,
En la course d’un jour tout le Ciel tournoyant;
Plein d’immense grandeur, rond, vagabond, et ferme;
Lequel tient dessoubs luy tout le monde pour terme:
En repos, sans repos; oysif, et sans séjour;
Fils aisné de nature, et le père du jour:
“The common light that equal shines on all,
Diffused around the whole terrestrial ball;
And, if the almighty Ruler of the skies
Has eyes, the sunbeams are his radiant eyes,
That life and safety give to young and old,
And all men’s actions upon earth behold.
This great, this beautiful, the glorious sun,
Who makes their course the varied seasons run;
That with his virtues fills the universe,
And with one glance can sullen clouds disperse;
Earth’s life and soul, that, flaming in his sphere,
Surrounds the heavens in one day’s career;
Immensely great, moving yet firm and round,
Who the whole world below has made his bound;
At rest, without rest, idle without stay,
Nature’s first son, and father of the day:”

forasmuch as, beside this grandeur and beauty of his, ‘tis the only
piece of this machine that we discover at the remotest distance from us;
and by that means so little known that they were pardonable for entering
into so great admiration and reverence of it.
Thales, who first inquired into this sort of matter, believed God to be
a Spirit that made all things of water; Anaximander, that the gods
were always dying and entering into life again; and that there were an
infinite number of worlds; Anaximines, that the air was God, that he
was procreate and immense, always moving. Anaxagoras the first, was of
opinion that the description and manner of all things were conducted by
the power and reason of an infinite spirit. Alcmæon gave divinity to
the sun, moon, and stars, and to the soul. Pythagoras made God a spirit,
spread over the nature of all things, whence our souls are extracted;
Parmenides, a circle surrounding the heaven, and supporting the world by
the ardour of light. Empedocles pronounced the four elements, of which
all things are composed, to be gods; Protagoras had nothing to say,
whether they were or were not, or what they were; Democritus was one
while of opinion that the images and their circuitions were gods;
another while, the nature that darts out those images; and then,
our science and intelligence. Plato divides his belief into several
opinions; he says, in his _Timæus_, that the Father of the World cannot
be named; in his Laws, that men are not to inquire into his being; and
elsewhere, in the very same books, he makes the world, the heavens, the
stars, the earth, and our souls, gods; admitting, moreover, those which
have been received by ancient institution in every republic.
Xenophon reports a like perplexity in Socrates’s doctrine; one while
that men are not to inquire into the form of God, and presently makes
him maintain that the sun is God, and the soul God; that there is but
one God, and then that there are many. Speusippus, the nephew of Plato,
makes God a certain power governing all things, and that he has a soul.
Aristotle one while says it is the spirit, and another the world; one
while he gives the world another master, and another while makes God the
heat of heaven. Zenocrates makes eight, five named amongst the planets;
the sixth composed of all the fixed stars, as of so many members; the
seventh and eighth, the sun and moon. Heraclides Ponticus does nothing
but float in his opinion, and finally deprives God of sense, and makes
him shift from one form to another, and at last says that it is heaven
and earth. Theophrastus wanders in the same irresolution amongst his
fancies, attributing the superintendency of the world one while to the
understanding, another while to heaven, and then to the stars. Strato
says that ‘tis nature, she having the power of generation, augmentation,
and diminution, without form and sentiment Zeno says ‘tis the law of
nature, commanding good and prohibiting evil; which law is an animal;
and takes away the accustomed gods, Jupiter, Juno, and Vesta. Diogenes
Apolloniates, that ‘tis air. Zenophanes makes God round, seeing and
hearing, not breathing, and having nothing in common with human nature.
Aristo thinks the form of God to be incomprehensible, deprives him
of sense, and knows not whether he be an animal or something else;
Cleanthes, one while supposes it to be reason, another while the world,
another the soul of nature, and then the supreme heat rolling about, and
environing all. Perseus, Zeno’s disciple, was of opinion that men have
given the title of gods to such as have been useful, and have added
any notable advantage to human life, and even to profitable things
themselves. Chrysippus made a confused heap of all the preceding
theories, and reckons, amongst a thousand forms of gods that he makes,
the men also that have been deified. Diagoras and Theodoras flatly
denied that there were any gods at all. Epicurus makes the gods shining,
transparent, and perflable, lodged as betwixt two forts, betwixt two
worlds, secure from blows, clothed in a human figure, and with such
members as we have; which members are to them of no use:--

Ego Deum genus esse semper duxi, et dicam colitum;
Sed eos non curare opinor quid agat humanum genus.
“I ever thought that gods above there were,
But do not think they care what men do here.”

Trust to your philosophy, my masters; and brag that you have found
the bean in the cake when you see what a rattle is here with so many
philosophical heads! The perplexity of so many worldly forms has gained
this over me, that manners and opinions contrary to mine do not so much
displease as instruct me; nor so much make me proud as they humble me,
in comparing them. And all other choice than what comes from the express
and immediate hand of God seems to me a choice of very little privilege.
The policies of the world are no less opposite upon this subject than
the schools, by which we may understand that fortune itself is not more
variable and inconstant, nor more blind and inconsiderate, than our
reason. The things that are most unknown are most proper to be deified;
wherefore to make gods of ourselves, as the ancients did, exceeds the
extremest weakness of understanding. I would much rather have gone along
with those who adored the serpent, the dog, or the ox; forasmuch as
their nature and being is less known to us, and that we have more room
to imagine what we please of those beasts, and to attribute to them
extraordinary faculties. But to have made gods of our own condition, of
whom we ought to know the imperfections; and to have attributed to
them desire, anger, revenge, marriages, generation, alliances, love,
jealousy, our members and bones, our fevers and pleasures, our death and
obsequies; this must needs have proceeded from a marvellous inebriety of
the human understanding;

Quæ procul usque adeo divino ab numine distant,
Inque Deûm numéro quæ sint indigna videri;
“From divine natures these so distant are,
They are unworthy of that character.”

_Formo, otates, vestitus, omatus noti sunt; genera, conjugia,
cognationes, omniaque traducta ad similitudinem imbellitar tis
humano: nam et perturbatis animis inducuntur; accipimus enim deorurn
cupiditates, cegritudines, iracundias_; “Their forms, ages, clothes,
and ornaments are known: their descents, marriages, and kindred, and all
adapted to the similitude of human weakness; for they are represented to
us with anxious minds, and we read of the lusts, sickness, and anger
of the gods;” as having attributed divinity not only to faith,
virtue, honour, concord, liberty, victory, and piety; but also to
voluptuousness, fraud, death, envy, old age, misery; to fear, fever, ill
fortune, and other injuries of our frail and transitory life:--

Quid juvat hoc, templis nostros inducere mores?
O curvæ in terris animæ et colestium inanes!
“O earth-born souls! by earth-born passions led,
To every spark of heav’nly influence dead!
Think ye that what man values will inspire
In minds celestial the same base desire?”

The Egyptians, with an impudent prudence, interdicted, upon pain of
hanging, that any one should say that their gods, Serapis and Isis, had
formerly been men; and yet no one was ignorant that they had been
such; and their effigies, represented with the finger upon the mouth,
signified, says Varro, that mysterious decree to their priests, to
conceal their mortal original, as it must by necessary consequence
cancel all the veneration paid to them. Seeing that man so much desired
to equal himself to God, he had done better, says Cicero, to have
attracted those divine conditions to himself, and drawn them down hither
below, than to send his corruption and misery up on high; but, to take
it right, he has several ways done both the one and the other, with like
vanity of opinion.
When philosophers search narrowly into the hierarchy of their gods, and
make a great bustle about distinguishing their alliances, offices, and
power, I cannot believe they speak as they think. When Plato describes
Pluto’s orchard to us, and the bodily conveniences or pains that attend
us after the ruin and annihilation of our bodies, and accommodates them
to the feeling we have in this life:--

Secreti celant calles, et myrtea circum
Sylva tegit; curæ non ipsâ in morte relinquunt;
“In secret vales and myrtle groves they lie,
Nor do cares leave them even when they die.”

when Mahomet promises his followers a Paradise hung with tapestry,
gilded and enamelled with gold and precious stones, furnished with
wenches of excelling beauty, rare wines, and delicate dishes; it
is easily discerned that these are deceivers that accommodate their
promises to our sensuality, to attract and allure us by hopes and
opinions suitable to our mortal appetites. And yet some amongst us
are fallen into the like error, promising to themselves after the
resurrection a terrestrial and temporal life, accompanied with all sorts
of worldly conveniences and pleasures. Can we believe that Plato, he
who had such heavenly conceptions, and was so well acquainted with the
Divinity as thence to derive the name of the Divine Plato, ever thought
that the poor creature, man, had any thing in him applicable to that
incomprehensible power? and that he believed that the weak holds we are
able to take were capable, or the force of our understanding sufficient,
to participate of beatitude or eternal pains? We should then tell him
from human reason: “If the pleasures thou dost promise us in the other
life are of the same kind that I have enjoyed here below, this has
nothing in common with infinity; though all my five natural senses
should be even loaded with pleasure, and my soul full of all the
contentment it could hope or desire, we know what all this amounts to,
all this would be nothing; if there be any thing of mine there, there is
nothing divine; if this be no more than what may belong to our present
condition, it cannot be of any value. All contentment of mortals is
mortal. Even the knowledge of our parents, children, and friends,
if that can affect and delight us in the other world, if that still
continues a satisfaction to us there, we still remain in earthly and
finite conveniences. We cannot as we ought conceive the greatness of
these high and divine promises, if we could in any sort conceive them;
to have a worthy imagination of them we must imagine them unimaginable,
inexplicable, and incomprehensible, and absolutely another thing than
those of our miserable experience.” “Eye hath not seen,” saith St. Paul,
“nor ear heard, neither hath entered into the heart of man, the things
that God hath prepared for them that love him.” And if, to render us
capable, our being were reformed and changed (as thou, Plato, sayest, by
thy purifications), it ought to be so extreme and total a change, that
by physical doctrine it be no more us;--

Hector erat tunc cum bello certabat; at ille
Tractus ab Æmonio non erat Hector eqao;
He Hector was whilst he could fight, but when
Dragg’d by Achilles’ steeds, no Hector then;

it must be something else that must receive these recompenses:--

Quod mutatur... dissolvitur; interit ergo;
Trajiciuntur enim partes, atque ordine migrant.
“Things changed dissolved are, and therefore die;
Their parts are mix’d, and from their order fly.”

For in Pythagoras’s metempsychosis, and the change of habitation that
he imagined in souls, can we believe that the lion, in whom the soul of
Cæsar is enclosed, does espouse Cæsar’s passions, or that the lion
is he? For if it was still Cæsar, they would be in the right who,
controverting this opinion with Plato, reproach him that the son
might be seen to ride his mother transformed into a mule, and the like