Essais Chapitre 7

(Livre III, p. 402v-405).Michel de MontaigneVLivre III7. De l’incommodité de la grandeurMontaigne - Essais, Éd de Bordeaux, 3.djvuMontaigne - Essais, Éd de Bordeaux, 3.djvu/1402v-405

De l’incommodité de la grandeur Chap. VII

PUisque nous ne la pouvons aveindre, vengeons nous à en mesdire. Si n’est pas entierement mesdire de quelque chose, d’y trouver des deffauts ; il s’en trouve en toutes choses, pour belles et desirables qu’elles soyent. En general, elle a cet evident avantage qu’elle se ravalle quand il luy plaist, et qu’à peu pres elle a le chois de l’une et l’autre condition : car on ne tombe pas de toute hauteur ; il en est plus desquelles on peut descendre sans tomber. Bien
me semble il, que nous la faisons trop valoir ; & trop valoir aussi la resolution de ceux que nous avons, ou veu ou ouy dire, l’avoir mesprisee, ou s’en estre desmis, de leur propre dessein. Son essence n’est pas si evidemment commode, qu’on ne la puisse refuser sans miracle. Je trouve l’effort bien difficile à la souffrance des maux, mais au contentement d’une mediocre mesure de fortune, & fuite de la grãdeur, j’y trouve fort peu d’affaire. C’est une vertu, ce me semble, où moy, qui ne suis qu’un oyson, arriverois sans beaucoup de contention. Que doivent faire ceux, qui mettroyent encores en consideration, la gloire qui accompagne ce refus, auquel il peut escheoir plus d’ambition, qu’au desir mesme & jouyssance de la grandeur. D’autant que l’ambition ne se conduit jamais mieux selon soy, que par une voye esgarée & inusitée. J’aiguise mon courage vers la patience, je l’affoiblis vers le desir. Autant ay−je à souhaiter qu’un autre, & laisse à mes souhaits autant de liberté & d’indiscretion ; mais pourtant si ne m’est−il jamais advenu, de souhaiter ny empire ny Royauté, ny l’eminẽce de ces hautes fortunes & commanderesses. Je ne vise pas de ce costé là, je m’aime trop. Quand je pense à croistre, c’est bassement, d’une accroissance contrainte & coüarde, proprement pour moy : en resolution, en prudence, en santé, en beauté, & en richesse encore. Mais ce credit, cette auctorité si puissante, foule mon imagination. Et tout à l’opposite de l’autre, m’aymerois à l’avãture mieux, deuxiesme ou troisiesme à Perige, que premier à Paris : au moins sans mentir, mieux troisiesme à Paris, que premier en charge. Je ne veux ny debattre avec un huissier de porte, miserable inconu ; ny faire fendre en adoration, les presses où je passe : je suis duit à un estage moyen, cõme par ma fortune, aussi par mon goust. J’ay ainsi l’ame poltrone, que je ne mesure pas la bonne fortune selõ sa hauteur, mais selon sa facilité. Je suis desgousté de maistrise, & active & paſſive.Le plus aſpre & difficile meſtier du monde, à mon gré, c’est, faire dignement le Roy. J’excuſe plus de leurs fautes, qu’on ne fait communéement, en conſideration de l’horrible poix de leur charge, qui m’eſtonne. Il eſt difficile de garder mesure, à une puiſſance ſi deſmesuree. Si eſt−ce que c’eſt envers ceux−meſmes qui ſont de moins excellente nature, une ſinguliere incitation à la vertu, d’eſtre logé en tel lieu, où vous ne faciez aucun bien, qui ne soit mis en regiſtre & en conte : & où le moindre bien faire porte ſur tant de gens : & où voſtre ſuffiſance, comme celle des preſcheurs, s’adreſſe principalement au peuple, juge peu exacte, facile à piper, facile à cõtenter. Il eſt peu de choſes, auſquelles nous puiſſions donner le jugement ſyncere, par ce qu’il en eſt peu, auſquelles en quelque façon nous n’ayons particulier intereſt. La ſuperiorité & inferiorité, la maiſtrise ſ la ſubjection, ſont obligées à une naturelle envie & conteſtation, il faut qu’elles ſ'entrepillent perpetuellement. Je ne crois ny l’une ny l’autre, des droicts de ſa compagne : laiſſons en dire à la raiſon, qui est inflexible & impaſſible, quand nous en pourrons finer. Je feuilletois il n’y a pas un mois, deux livres eſcoſſois, ſe combattans sur ce subject. Le populaire rend le Roy de pire condition qu’un charretier, le monarchique le loge quelques braſſes au deſſus de Dieu, en puiſſance & ſouveraineté. Or l’incommodité de la grandeur, que j’ay pris icy à remarquer, par quelque occaſiõ qui vient de m’en advertir, eſt cette cy. Il n’eſt à l’avanture riẽ plus plaiſãt au commerce des hommes, que les eſſays que nous faiſons les uns contre les autres, par jalouſie d’honneur & de valeur, ſoit aux exercices du corps ou de l’eſprit : auſquels la grandeur ſouveraine n’a aucune vraye part. A la verité il m’a ſemblé ſouvent, qu’a force de reſpect, on y traicte les Princes deſdaigneuſement & injurieuſement. Car ce dequoy je m’offençois infiniement en mon enfance, que ceux qui s’exerçoyent avec moy espargnassent de s’y employer à bon escient, pour me trouver indigne contre qui ils s’efforçassent, c’est ce qu’on voit leur advenir tous les jours, chacun se trouvant indigne de s’efforcer contre eux. Si on recognoist qu’ils ayent tant soit peu d’affection à la victoire, il n’est celuy qui ne se travaille à la leur prester, et qui n’aime mieux trahir sa gloire que d’offenser la leur : on n’y employe qu’autant d’effort qu’il en faut pour servir à leur honneur. Quelle part ont ils à la meslée, en laquelle chacun est pour eux ? Il me semble voir ces paladins du temps passé se presentans aus joustes et aus combats avec des corps et des armes faëes. Brisson, courant contre Alexandre, se feingnit en la course ; Alexandre l’en tança, mais il luy en devoit faire donner le foet. Pour cette consideration, Carneades disoit que les enfans des Princes n’apprennent rien à droict qu’à manier des chevaux, d’autant que en tout autre exercice chacun fleschit soubs eux et leur donne gaigné ; mais un cheval, qui n’est ny flateur ny courtisan, verse le fils du Roy à terre comme il feroit le fils d’un crocheteur. Homere a esté contrainct de consentir que Venus fut blessée au combat de Troye, une si douce saincte et si delicate, pour luy donner du courage et de la hardiesse, qualitez qui ne tombent aucunement en ceux qui sont exempts de danger. On faict courroucer, craindre, fuyr les dieux, s’en jalouser, se douloir et se passionner, pour les honorer des vertus qui se bastissent entre nous de ces imperfections. Qui ne participe au hazard et difficulté, ne peut pretendre interest à l’honneur et plaisir qui suit les actions hazardeuses. C’est pitié de pouvoir tant qu’il advienne que toutes choses vous cedent. Vostre fortune rejecte trop loing de vous la societé et la compaignie, elle vous plante trop à l’escart. Cette aysance et lache facilité de faire tout baisser soubs soy est ennemye de toute sorte de plaisir. c’est glisser, cela, ce n’est pas aller ; c’est dormir, ce n’est pas vivre. Concevez l’homme accompaigné d’omnipotence, vous l’abismez : il faut qu’il vous demande par aumosne de l’empeschement et de la resistance ; son estre et son bien est en indigence. Leurs bonnes qualitez sont mortes et perdues, car elles ne se sentent que par comparaison, et on les en met hors ; ils ont peu de cognoissance de la vraye louange, estant batus d’une si continuele approbation et uniforme. Ont ils affaire au plus sot de leurs subjects, ils n’ont aucun moyen de prendre advantage sur luy ; en disant : C’est pour ce qu’il est mon Roy, il luy semble avoir assez dict qu’il a presté la main à se laisser vaincre. Cette qualité estouffe et consomme les autres qualitez vrayes et essentielles (elles sont enfoncées dans la Royauté) et ne leur laisse à eux faire valoir que les actions qui la touchent directement et qui luy servent, les offices de leur charge. C’est tant estre Roy qu’il n’est que par là. Cette lueur estrangere qui l’environne, le cache et nous le desrobe ; nostre veue s’y rompt et s’y dissipe, estant remplie et arrestée par cette forte lumiere. Le Senat ordonna le pris d’eloquence à Tybere ; il le refusa, n’estimant pas que, d’un jugement si peu libre, quand bien il eust esté veritable, il s’en peut ressentir. Comme on leur cede tous avantages d’honneur, aussi conforte l’on et auctorise les deffauts et vices qu’ils ont, non seulement par approbation, mais aussi par imitation. Chacun des suyvans d’Alexandre portoit comme luy la teste à costé ; et les flateurs de Dionysius s’entrehurtoyent en sa presence, poussoyent et versoyent ce qui se rencontroit à leurs pieds, pour dire qu’ils avoyent la veue aussi courte que luy. Les greveures ont aussi par fois servy de recommandation et faveur. J’en ay veu la surdité en affectation ; et, par ce que le maistre hayssoit sa femme, Plutarque a veu les courtisans repudier les leurs, qu’ils aymoyent. Qui plus est, la paillardise s’en est veue en credit, et toute dissolution ; comme aussi la desloyauté, les blasphemes, la cruauté ; comme l’heresie ; comme la superstition, l’irreligion, la mollesse ; et pis, si pis il y a : par un exemple encores plus dangereux que celuy des flateurs de Mithridates, qui, d’autant que leur maistre envioit l’honneur de bon medecin, luy portoyent à inciser et cautheriser leurs membres : car ces autres souffrent cautheriser leur ame, partie plus delicate et plus noble. Mais, pour achever par où j’ay commencé, Adrian l’Empereur debatant avec le philosophe Favorinus de l’interpretation de quelque mot, Favorinus luy en quicta bien tost la victoire. Ses amys se plaignans à luy : Vous vous moquez, fit-il ; voudriez vous qu’il ne fut pas plus sçavant que moy, luy qui commande à trente legions ? Auguste escrivit des vers contre Asinius Pollio : Et moy, dict Pollio, je me tais ; ce n’est pas sagesse d’escrire à l’envy de celui qui peut proscrire. Et avoyent raison. Car Dionysius, pour ne pouvoir esgaller Philoxenus en la poesie, et Platon en discours, en condemna l’un aus carrieres, et envoya vendre l’autre esclave en l’isle d’Aegine.

Chapter VII. Of the Inconvenience of Greatness.

Since we cannot attain unto it, let us revenge our selves by railing at

it; and yet it is not absolutely railing against anything to proclaim its

defects, because they are in all things to be found, how beautiful or how

much to be coveted soever. Greatness has, in general, this manifest

advantage, that it can lower itself when it pleases, and has, very near,

the choice of both the one and the other condition; for a man does not

fall from all heights; there are several from which one may descend

without falling down. It does, indeed, appear to me that we value it at

too high a rate, and also overvalue the resolution of those whom we have

either seen or heard have contemned it, or displaced themselves of their

own accord: its essence is not so evidently commodious that a man may

not, with out a miracle, refuse it. I find it a very hard thing to

undergo misfortunes, but to be content with a moderate measure of

fortune, and to avoid greatness, I think a very easy matter. 'Tis,

methinks, a virtue to which I, who am no conjuror, could without any

great endeavour arrive. What, then, is to be expected from them that

would yet put into consideration the glory attending this refusal,

wherein there may lurk worse ambition than even in the desire itself,

and fruition of greatness? Forasmuch as ambition never comports itself

better, according to itself, than when it proceeds by obscure and

unfrequented ways.

I incite my courage to patience, but I rein it as much as I can towards

desire. I have as much to wish for as another, and allow my wishes as

much liberty and indiscretion; but yet it never befell me to wish for

either empire or royalty, or the eminency of those high and commanding

fortunes: I do not aim that way; I love myself too well. When I think to

grow greater, 'tis but very moderately, and by a compelled and timorous

advancement, such as is proper for me in resolution, in prudence, in

health, in beauty, and even in riches too; but this supreme reputation,

this mighty authority, oppress my imagination; and, quite contrary to

that other, I should, peradventure, rather choose to

be the second or third in Perigord than the first at Paris at least,

without lying, rather the third at Paris than the first. I would neither

dispute with a porter, a miserable unknown, nor make crowds open in

adoration as I pass. I am trained up to a moderate condition, as well by

my choice as fortune; and have made it appear, in the whole conduct of my

life and enterprises, that I have rather avoided than otherwise the

climbing above the degree of fortune wherein God has placed me by my

birth; all natural constitution is equally just and easy. My soul is

such a poltroon, that I measure not good fortune by the height, but by

the facility.

But if my heart be not great enough, 'tis open enough to make amends, at

any one's request, freely to lay open its weakness. Should any one put

me upon comparing the life of L. Thorius Balbus, a brave man, handsome,

learned, healthful, understanding, and abounding in all sorts of

conveniences and pleasures, leading a quiet life, and all his own, his

mind well prepared against death, superstition, pain, and other

incumbrances of human necessity, dying, at last, in battle, with his

sword in his hand, for the defence of his country, on the one part; and

on the other part, the life of M. Regulus, so great and high as is known

to every one, and his end admirable; the one without name and without

dignity, the other exemplary and glorious to a wonder. I should

doubtless say, as Cicero did, could I speak as well as he.

But if I was to compare them with my own, I should then also say that the

first is as much according to my capacity, and from desire, which I

conform to my capacity, as the second is far beyond it; that I could not

approach the last but with veneration, the other I could readily attain

by use.

Let us return to our temporal greatness, from which we are digressed. I

disrelish all dominion, whether active or passive. Otanes, one of the

seven who had right to pretend to the kingdom of Persia, did as I should

willingly have done, which was, that he gave up to his competitors his

right of being promoted to it, either by election or by lot, provided

that he and his might live in the empire out of all authority and

subjection, those of the ancient laws excepted, and might enjoy all

liberty that was not prejudicial to these, being as impatient of

commanding as of being commanded.

The most painful and difficult employment in the world, in my opinion, is

worthily to discharge the office of a king. I excuse more of their

mistakes than men commonly do, in consideration of the intolerable weight

of their function, which astounds me. 'Tis hard to keep measure in so

immeasurable a power; yet so it is that it is, even to those who are not

of the best nature, a singular incitement to virtue to be seated in a

place where you cannot do the least good that shall not be put upon

record, and where the least benefit redounds to so many men, and where

your talent of administration, like that of preachers, principally

addresses itself to the people, no very exact judge, easy to deceive, and

easily content. There are few things wherein we can give a sincere

judgment, by reason that there are few wherein we have not, in some sort,

a private interest. Superiority and inferiority, dominion and subjection

are bound to a natural envy and contest, and must of necessity

perpetually intrench upon one another. I believe neither the one nor the

other touching the rights of the other party; let reason therefore, which

is inflexible and without passion, determine when we can avail ourselves

of it. 'Tis not above a month ago that I read over, two Scottish authors

contending upon this subject, of whom he who stands for the people makes

the king to be in a worse condition than a carter; he who writes for

monarchy places him some degrees above God in power and sovereignty.

Now, the incommodity of greatness that I have taken to remark in this

place, upon some occasion that has lately put it into my head, is this:

there is not, peradventure, anything more pleasant in the commerce of

many than the trials that we make against one another, out of emulation

of honour and worth, whether in the exercises of the body or in those of

the mind, wherein sovereign greatness can have no true part. And, in

earnest, I have often thought that by force of respect itself men use

princes disdainfully and injuriously in that particular; for the thing I

was infinitely offended at in my childhood, that they who exercised with

me forbore to do their best because they found me unworthy of their

utmost endeavour, is what we see happen to them daily, every one finding

himself unworthy to contend with them. If we discover that they have the

least desire to get the better of us, there is no one who will not make

it his business to give it them, and who will not rather betray his own

glory than offend theirs; and will therein employ so much force only as

is necessary to save their honour. What share have they, then, in the

engagement, where every one is on their side? Methinks I see those

paladins of ancient times presenting themselves to jousts and battle with

enchanted arms and bodies. Brisson,

running against Alexander, purposely missed his blow, and made a fault in

his career; Alexander chid him for it, but he ought to have had him

whipped. Upon this consideration Carneades said, that "the sons of

princes learned nothing right but to manage horses; by reason that, in

all their other exercises, every one bends and yields to them; but a

horse, that is neither a flatterer nor a courtier, throws the son of a

king with no more ceremony than he would throw that of a porter."

Homer was fain to consent that Venus, so sweet and delicate a goddess as

she was, should be wounded at the battle of Troy, thereby to ascribe

courage and boldness to her qualities that cannot possibly be in those

who are exempt from danger. The gods are made to be angry, to fear, to

run away, to be jealous, to grieve, to be transported with passions, to

honour them with the virtues that, amongst us, are built upon these

imperfections. Who does not participate in the hazard and difficulty, can

claim no interest in the honour and pleasure that are the consequents of

hazardous actions. 'Tis pity a man should be so potent that all things

must give way to him; fortune therein sets you too remote from society,

and places you in too great a solitude. This easiness and mean facility

of making all things bow under you, is an enemy to all sorts of pleasure:

'tis to slide, not to go; 'tis to sleep, and not to live. Conceive man

accompanied with omnipotence: you overwhelm him; he must beg disturbance

and opposition as an alms: his being and his good are in indigence. Evil

to man is in its turn good, and good evil. Neither is pain always to be

shunned, nor pleasure always to be pursued.

Their good qualities are dead and lost; for they can only be perceived by

comparison, and we put them out of this: they have little knowledge of

true praise, having their ears deafened with so continual and uniform an

approbation. Have they to do with the stupidest of all their subjects?

they have no means to take any advantage of him; if he but say: "'Tis

because he is my king," he thinks he has said enough to express that he

therefore suffered himself to be overcome. This quality stifles and

consumes the other true and essential qualities: they are sunk in the

royalty, and leave them nothing to recommend themselves with but actions

that directly concern and serve the function of their place; 'tis so much

to be a king, that this alone remains to them. The outer glare that

environs him conceals and shrouds him from us; our sight is there

repelled and dissipated, being filled and stopped by this prevailing

light. The senate awarded the prize of eloquence to Tiberius; he refused

it, esteeming that though it had been just, he could derive no advantage

from a judgment so partial, and that was so little free to judge.

As we give them all advantages of honour, so do we soothe and authorise

all their vices and defects, not only by approbation, but by imitation

also. Every one of Alexander's followers carried his head on one side,

as he did; and the flatterers of Dionysius ran against one another in his

presence, and stumbled at and overturned whatever was under foot, to shew

they were as purblind as he. Hernia itself has also served to recommend

a man to favour; I have seen deafness affected; and because the master

hated his wife, Plutarch has seen his

courtiers repudiate theirs, whom they loved; and, which is yet more,

uncleanliness and all manner of dissoluteness have so been in fashion; as

also disloyalty, blasphemy, cruelty, heresy, superstition, irreligion,

effeminacy, and worse, if worse there be; and by an example yet more

dangerous than that of Mithridates' flatterers, who, as their master

pretended to the honour of a good physician, came to him to have

incisions and cauteries made in their limbs; for these others suffered

the soul, a more delicate and noble part, to be cauterised.

But to end where I began: the Emperor Adrian, disputing with the

philosopher Favorinus about the interpretation of some word, Favorinus

soon yielded him the victory; for which his friends rebuking him, "You

talk simply," said he; "would you not have him wiser than I, who commands

thirty legions?" Augustus wrote verses against Asinius Pollio, and "I,"

said Pollio, "say nothing, for it is not prudence to write in contest

with him who has power to proscribe." And they were right. For

Dionysius, because he could not equal Philoxenus in poesy and Plato in

discourse, condemned the one to the quarries, and sent the other to be

sold for a slave into the island of AEgina.