ent the dead, and should envy them rather
I had rather be old a brief time, than be old before old age
I owe it rather to my fortune than my reason
Incline the history to their own fancy
It (my books) may know many things that are gone from me
Knowledge and truth may be in us without judgment
Learn the theory from those who best know the practice
Loved them for our sport, like monkeys, and not as men
Motive to some vicious occasion or some prospect of profit
My books: from me hold that which I have not retained
My dog unseasonably importunes me to play
My innocence is a simple one; little vigour and no art.
Never observed any great stability in my soul to resist passions
Nothing tempts my tears but tears
Omit, as incredible, such things as they do not understand
On all occasions to contradict and oppose
Only desire to become more wise, not more learned or eloquent
Passion of dandling and caressing infants scarcely born
Perfection: but I will not buy it so dear as it costs
Plato will have nobody marry before thirty
Prudent and just man may be intemperate and inconsistent
Puerile simplicities of our children
Shelter my own weakness under these great reputations
Socrates kept a confounded scolding wife
The authors, with whom I converse
There is no recompense becomes virtue
To do well where there was danger was the proper office
To whom no one is ill who can be good?
Turks have alms and hospitals for beasts
Vices will cling together, if a man have not a care
Virtue is much strengthened by combats
Virtue refuses facility for a companion

ESSAYS OF MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE

Translated by Charles Cotton

Edited by William Carew Hazlitt

1877

CONTENTS OF VOLUME 11.

XIII. Of judging of the death of another.
XIV. That the mind hinders itself.
XV. That our desires are augmented by difficulty.
XVI. Of glory.
XVII. Of presumption.

CHAPTER XIII

OF JUDGING OF THE DEATH OF ANOTHER

When we judge of another's assurance in death, which, without doubt, is
the most remarkable action of human life, we are to take heed of one
thing, which is that men very hardly believe themselves to have arrived
to that period. Few men come to die in the opinion that it is their
latest hour; and there is nothing wherein the flattery of hope m