henfive that I should act ill, as that I should not act at all; he did not fear my having a propenfity to malice or vice, but from my natural indolent disposition, he dreaded (what I am sensible has actually been the case) that I should become a useless and negative character. The complaints which are circulated concerning me, are, that I am inactive, cold in the offices of private duty and friendship, still more remiss with regard to public affairs, too singular, and too proud; but the most malicious man cannot aver that I do not pay my debts, or that I ever wronged any person. Yet with all these defects of my constitution, my mind, when retired within itself, is not altogether idle, nor wholly deprived of solid acquisitions.

Shall I still further intrude upon your patience, by relating one circumstance of my youth; having a firm and manly countenance, and a flexibility of voice and gesture, in my eleventh year I played with very great applause the principal parts in several Latin tragedies, which were represented in our College. 'Tis an exercise which I do not disapprove for youths of condition, and I have even witnessed

that

that our princes successfully follow this example of the ancients, and commendably sill the parts of the highest characters. This species of recreation calls forth the active powers of the mind, and stimulates the juvenile affections, which is attended with more beneficial success than by means of lashes forcing boys to fill their heads full of learning, thus loading them like so many asses; whereas when learning is properly distributed, instead of carrying it like beasts of burden, they will deem it their familiar attendant and amusing companion*.

*It is to be lamented, and affords matter of astonish. ment, that Montaigne, in this treatise on Education, has never enforced the necessity of inculcating religious precepts into the minds of his pupils. He who in several parts of his essays appears to have a strong sense of the utility of the Christian religion, and veneration for its divine truths, particularly in the beautiful conclusion in the first Essay on Custom, yet only quotes the Stoics as teachers of all morality. It must indeed be allowed, that considering they were not assisted by the aid of Revelation, and the consequent belief of a suture state, they have displayed very exalted sentiments. But while Montaigne gives his pupils in idea every virtue, he does not seem impressed with a conviction

that

that the Christian religion can alone render those virtues durable and unshaken. There is as wide a difference between virtue founded upon the doctrine of philofophy, and that founded upon the gospel, as there is between the transient glare of a flash of lightning, and the steady and uniform light of the sun.

ESSAY 21.

On our incapacity to distinguish truth from error.

'Tis not perhaps without reason, that we attribute facility of belief, and easiness of perfuasion, to simplicity and ignorance. I have heard belief compared to a seal stampt on the soul, which according to its greater degree of softness, the more easily receives the impression; or to a pair of scales, for as the balance must give way to the weight that presses it down, so must the foul, that is vacant and without counterpoise, with greater facility dip under the weight of the first impression. Thus children, the lower order of people, and sick persons, are the easiest led by the ear.

On the other side, it indicates great prefumption to slight and condemn all things as false, merely because they do not appear to us likely to be true, which is the usual error of thofe

thofe who fancy themselves wiser than their neighbours. This folly once was mine, and if I heard of any prophecies or miracles, I immediately felt compassion for the poor people that were misled by such follies; whereas I now perceive that I was myself to be pitied, at least as much as they. We are not, however, to give credit to every report; but reason has instructed me, that resolutely to decide on any thing as false and impossible, is arrogantly and impiously to circumscribe and limit the will of God, and the power of nature, within the bounds of our own shallow capacity, than which there can be no greater folly.

Let us reflect on the obscurity which still surrounds those subjects on which we think ourselves well informed, and we shall find that it is rather from custom than knowledge, that they are rendered easy and familiar. How can we give the name of monster and miracle to every thing which our reason cannot compre hend, when so many phenomena are daily presented to our view? Accustomed to, and satiated with the light of heaven, we scarcely deign to raise our eyes to the brilliant sky; and

Lucretius