heard him pronounce some very remarkable opinions on contemporary events；
and he adds that Montaigne had foreseen that the troubles in France could
not end without witnessing the death of either the King of Navarre or of
the Duke of Guise。 He had made himself so completely master of the views
of these two princes； that he told De Thou that the King of Navarre would
have been prepared to embrace Catholicism； if he had not been afraid of
being abandoned by his party； and that the Duke of Guise； on his part；
had no particular repugnance to the Confession of Augsburg； for which the
Cardinal of Lorraine； his uncle； had inspired him with a liking； if it
had not been for the peril involved in quitting the Romish communion。 It
would have been easy for Montaigne to play； as we call it； a great part
in politics； and create for himself a lofty position but his motto was；
'Otio et Libertati'； and he returned quietly home to compose a chapter
for his next edition on inconveniences of Greatness。
The author of the Essays was now fifty…five。 The malady which tormented
him grew only worse and worse with years； and yet he occupied himself
continually with reading； meditating； and composition。 He employed the
years 1589； 1590； and 1591 in making fresh additions to his book； and
even in the approaches of old age he might fairly anticipate many happy
hours； when he was attacked by quinsy； depriving him of the power
utterance。 Pasquier； who has left us some details his last hours；
narrates that he remained three days in full possession of his faculties；
but unable to speak； so that； in order to make known his desires； he was
obliged to resort to writing； and as he felt his end drawing near； he
begged his wife to summon certain of the gentlemen who lived in the
neighbourhood to bid them a last farewell。 When they had arrived； he
caused mass to be celebrated in apartment； and just as the priest was
elevating the host； Montaigne fell forward with his arms extended in
front of him； on the bed； and so expired。 He was in his sixtieth year。
It was the 13th September 1592。
Montaigne was buried near his own house； but a few years after his
decease； his remains were removed to the church of a Commandery of St。
Antoine at Bordeaux； where they still continue。 His monument was
restored in 1803 by a descendant。 It was seen about 1858 by an English
traveller （Mr。 St。 John）。'＇〃Montaigne the Essayist；〃 by Bayle St。
John； 1858； 2 vols。 8vo； is one of most delightful books of the kind。＇
and was then in good preservation。
In 1595 Mademoiselle de Gournay published a new edition of Montaigne's
Essays； and the first with the latest emendations of the author； from a
copy presented to her by his widow； and which has not been recovered；
although it is known to have been in existence some years after the date
of the impression； made on its authority。
Coldly as Montaigne's literary productions appear to have been received
by the generation immediately succeeding his own age； his genius grew
into just appreciation in the seventeenth century； when such great
spirits arose as La Bruyere； Moliere； La Fontaine； Madame de Sevigne。
〃O；〃 exclaimed the Chatelaine des Rochers； 〃what capital company he is；
the dear man！ he is my old friend； and just for the reason that he is
so； he always seems new。 My God！ how full is that book of sense！〃
Balzac said that he had carried human reason as far and as high as it
could go； both in politics and in morals。 On the other hand； Malebranche
and the writers of Port Royal were against him； some reprehended the
licentiousness of his writings； others their impiety； materialism；
epicureanism。 Even Pascal； who had carefully read the Essays； and gained
no small profit by them； did not spare his reproaches。 But Montaigne has
outlived detraction。 As time has gone on； his admirers and borrowers
have increased in number； and his Jansenism； which recommended him to the
eighteenth century； may not be his least recommendation in the
nineteenth。 Here we have certainly； on the whole； a first…class man； and
one proof of his masterly genius seems to be； that his merits and his
beauties are sufficient to induce us to leave out of consideration
blemishes and faults which would have been fatal to an inferior writer。
THE LETTERS OF MONTAIGNE。
I。
To Monsieur de MONTAIGNE
＇This account of the death of La Boetie begins imperfectly。 It first
appeared in a little volume of Miscellanies in 1571。 See Hazlitt； ubi
sup。 p。 630。＇〃。。。。As to his last words； doubtless； if any man can
give good account of them； it is I； both because； during the whole of his
sickness he conversed as fully with me as with any one； and also because；
in consequence of the singular and brotherly friendship which we had
entertained for each other； I was perfectly acquainted with the
intentions； opinions； and wishes which he had formed in the course of his
life； as much so； certainly； as one man can possibly be with those of
another man； and because I knew them to be elevated； virtuous； full of
steady resolution； and （after all said） admirable。 I well foresaw that；
if his illness permitted him to express himself； he would allow nothing
to fall from him； in such an extremity； that was not replete with good
example。 I consequently took every care in my power to treasure what was
said。 True it is； Monseigneur； as my memory is not only in itself very
short； but in this case affected by the trouble which I have undergone；
through so heavy and important a loss； that I have forgotten a number of
things which I should wish to have had known； but those which I recollect
shall be related to you as exactly as lies in my power。 For to represent
in full measure his noble career suddenly arrested； to paint to you his
indomitable courage； in a body worn out and prostrated by pain and the
assaults of death； I confess； would demand a far better ability than
mine： because； although； when in former years he discoursed on serious
and important matters； he handled them in such a manner that it was
difficult to reproduce exactly what he said； yet his ideas and his words
at the last seemed to rival each other in serving him。 For I am sure
that I never knew him give birth to such fine conceptions； or display so
much eloquence； as in the time of his sickness。 If； Monseigneur； you
blame me for introducing his more ordinary observations； please to know
that I do so advisedly； for since they proceeded from him at a season of
such great trouble； they indicate the perfect tranquillity of his mind
and thoughts to the last。
On Monday； the 9th day of August 1563； on my return from the Court； I
sent an invitation to him to come and dine with me。 He returned word
that he was obliged； but； being indisposed； he would thank me to do him
the pleasure of spending an hour with him before he started for Medoc。
Shortly after my dinner I went to him。 He had laid himself down on the
bed with his clothes on； and he was already； I perceived； much changed。
He complained of diarrhoea； accompanied by the gripes； and said that he
had it about him ever since he played with M。 d'Escars with nothing but
his doublet on； and that with him a cold often brought on such attacks。
I advised him to go as he had proposed； but to stay for the night at
Germignac； which is only about two leagues from the town。 I gave him
this advice； because some houses； near to that where he was ping； were
visited by the plague； about which he was nervous since his return from
Perigord and the Agenois； here it had been raging； and； besides； horse
exercise was； from my own experience； beneficial under similar
circumstances。 He set out； accordingly； with his wife and M。
Bouillhonnas； his uncle。
Early on the following morning； however； I had intelligence from Madame
de la Boetie； that in the night he had fresh and violent attack of
dysentery。 She had called in physician and apothecary； and prayed me to
lose no time coming； which （after dinner） I did。 He was delighted to see
me； and when I was going away； under promise to turn the following day；
he begged me more importunately and affectionately than he was wont to
do； to give him as such of my company as possible。 I was a little
affected； yet was about to leave； when Madame de la Boetie； as if she
foresaw something about to happen； implored me with tears to stay the
night。 When I consented； he seemed to grow more cheerful。 I returned
home the next day； and on the Thursday I paid him another visit。 He had
become worse； and his loss of blood from the dysentery； which reduced his
strength very much； was largely on the increase。 I quitted his side on
Friday； but on Saturday I went to him； and found him very weak。 He then
gave me to understand that his complaint was infectious； and； moreover；
disagreeable and depressing； and that he； knowing thoroughly my
constitution； desired that I should content myself with coming to see him
now and then。 On the contrary； after that I never left his side。
It was only on the Sunday that he began to converse with me on any
subject beyond the immediate one of his illness； and what the ancient
doctors thought of it： we had not touched on public affairs； for I found
at the very outset that he had a dislike to them。
But； on the Sunday； he had a fainting fit； and when he came to himself；
he told me that everything seemed to him confused； as if in a mist and in
disorder； and that； nevertheless； this visitation was not unpleasing to
him。 〃Death；〃 I replied； 〃has no worse sensation； my brother。〃 〃None so
bad；〃 was his answer。 He had had no regular sleep since the beginning of
his illness； and as he became worse and worse； he began to turn his
attention to questions which men commonly occupy themselves with in the
last extremity； despairing now of getting better； and intimating as much
to me。 On that day； as he appeared in tolerably good spirits； I took
occasion to say to him that； in consideration of the singular love I bore
him； it would become me to take care that his affairs； which he had
conducted with such rare prudence in his life； should not be neglected at
present； and that I