At another time, in one same fire, they caused to be burned all alive four hundred common men, and three score principal lords of a province whom by the fortune of war they had taken prisoners.
These narrations we have out of their own books, for they do not only avouch but vauntingly publish them. [88] May it be they do it for a testimony of their justice or zeal toward their religion? Verily, they are ways over-different and enemies to so sacred an end. Had they proposed unto themselves to enlarge and propagate our religion, they would have considered that it is not amplified by possession of lands but of men; and would have been satisfied with such slaughters as the necessity of war bringeth, without indifferently adding thereunto so bloody a butchery as upon savage beasts and so universal as fire or sword could ever attain unto, having purposely preserved no more than so many miserable bond-slaves, as they deemed might suffice for the digging, working, and service of their mines. So that divers of their chieftains have been executed to death, even in the places they had conquered, by the appointment of the kings of Castile, justly offended at the seld-seen [89] horror of their barbarous demeanours and well nigh all disesteemed, contemned, and hated. God hath meritoriously permitted that many of their great pillages and ill-gotten goods have either been swallowed up by the revenging seas in transporting them, or consumed by the intestine [90] wars and civil broils, wherewith themselves have devoured one another; and the greatest part of them have been overwhelmed and buried in the bowels of the earth, in the very places they found them, without any fruit of their victory.
Touching the objection which some make that the receipt, namely in the hands of so thrifty, wary, and wise a prince, [91] doth so little answer the fore-conceived hope which was given unto his predecessors and the said former abundance of riches they met withal at the first discovery of this new-found world (for although they bring home great quantity of gold and silver, we perceive the same to be nothing, in respect of what might be expected thence), it may be answered that the use of money was there altogether unknown and, consequently, that all their gold was gathered together, serving to no other purpose than for show, state, and ornament, as a moveable [92] reserved from father to son by many puissant kings who exhausted all their mines to collect so huge a heap of vessels or statues for the ornament of their temples and embellishing of their palaces; whereas all our gold is employed in commerce and traffic between man and man. We mince and alter it into a thousand forms; we spend, we scatter, and disperse the same to several uses. Suppose our kings should thus gather and heap up all the gold they might for many ages hoard up together and keep it close and untouched.
Those of the kingdom of Mexico were somewhat more encivilized [93] and better artists than other nations of that world. And as we do, so judged they, that this universe was near his end and took the desolation we brought amongst them as an infallible sign of it. They believed the state of the world to be divided into five ages and in the life of five succeeding suns, whereof four had already ended their course or time, and the same which now shined upon them was the fifth and last. The first perished together with all other creatures, by an universal inundation of waters. The second by the fall of the heavens upon us, which stifled and overwhelmed every living thing; to which age they affirm the giants to have been and showed the Spaniards certain bones of them, according to whose proportion the stature of men came to be, of the height of twenty handfuls. The third was consumed by a violent fire, which burned and destroyed all. The fourth by a whirling emotion of the air and winds, which with the violent fury of itself removed and overthrew divers high mountains; saying that men died not of it but were transformed into Munkeis. [94] (Oh what impressions doth not the weakness of man’s belief admit!) After the consummation of this fourth sun, the world continued five and twenty years in perpetual darkness, in the fifteenth of which one man and one woman were created who renewed the race of mankind. Ten years after, upon a certain day, the sun appeared as newly created, from which day beginneth ever since the calculation of their years. On the third day of whose creation died their ancient gods, their new ones have day by day been born since. In what manner this last sun shall perish, my author could not learn of them. But their number of this fourth change doth jump and meet with that great conjunction of the stars which eight hundred and odd years since, according to the astrologians’ supposition, produced diverse great alterations and strange novelties in the world.
Concerning the proud pomp and glorious magnificence, by occasion of which I am fallen into this discourse, nor Greece nor Rome nor Ægypt can (be it in profit or difficulty or nobility) equal or compare sundry and diverse of their works. The cawcie [95] or highway which is yet to be seen in Peru, erected by the kings of that country, stretching from the city of Quito unto that of Cusco (containing three hundred leagues in length) straight, even and fine, and twenty paces in breadth, curiously paved, raised on both sides with goodly, high masonry-walls, all alongst which, on the inner side, there are two continual running streams, pleasantly beset with beauteous trees, which they call molly. In framing of which, where they met any mountains or rocks, they have cut, raised, and levelled them and filled all below places with lime and stone. At the end of every day’s journey, as stations, there are built stately great palaces, plenteously stored with all manner of victuals, apparel, and arms, as well for daily wayfaring men as for such armies that might happen to pass that way.
In the estimation of which work I have especially considered the difficulty which in that place is particularly to be remembered. For they built with no stones that were less than ten foot square. They had no other means to carry or transport them than by mere strength of arms to draw and drag the carriage they needed; they had not so much as the art to make scaffolds, nor knew other device than to raise so much earth or rubbish against their building according as the work riseth, and afterward to take it away again.
But return we to our coaches. Instead of them and of all other carrying beasts, they caused themselves to be carried by men, and upon their shoulders. This last king of Peru, the same day he was taken, was thus carried upon rafters or beams of massive gold, sitting in a fair chair of state, likewise all of gold, in the middle of his battaile. [96] Look how many of his porters as were slain to make him fall (for all their endeavour was to take him alive) so many others, and as it were avie, [97] took and underwent presently the place of the dead so that they could never be brought down or made to fall, what slaughter so ever was made of those kind of people, until such time as a horseman furiously ran to take him by some part of his body and so pulled him to the ground.
Of the Lame or Cripple
3.11
TWO OR three years are now past since the year hath been shortened ten days in France. [1] Oh, how many changes are like to ensue this reformation! It was a right removing of Heaven and Earth together, yet nothing removeth from its own place: my neighbours find the season of their feed and harvest time, the opportunity of their affairs, their lucky and unlucky days, to answer just those seasons to which they had from all ages assigned them. Neither was the error heretofore perceived, nor is the reformation now discerned in our use. So much uncertainty is there in all things: so gross, so obscure, and so dull is our understanding.
Some are of opinion this reformation might have been redressed after a less incommodious manner, subtracting according to the example of Augustus, for some years, the bissextile [2] or leap day, which in some sort is but a day of hindrance and trouble, until they might more exactly have satisfied the debt; which by this late reformation is not done. For we are yet some days in arrearages. [3] And if by such a mean we might provide for times to come, appointing that after the revolution of such or such a number of years that extraordinary day might for ever be eclipsed, so that our misreckoning should not henceforward exceed four and twenty hours.
We have no other computation of time but years. The world hath used them so many ages; and yet is it a measure we have not until this day perfectly establ
ished. And such, as we daily doubt, what form other nations have diversely given the same and which was the true use of it. And what if, some say, that the heavens in growing old compress themselves towards us and cast us into an uncertainty of hours and days? And as Plutarch sayeth of months that even in his days, astrology could not yet limit [4] the motion of the moon? Are not we then well holp-up [5] to keep a register of things past?
I was even now plodding [6] (as often I do) upon this, what free and gadding [7] instrument human reason is. I ordinarily see that men, in matters proposed them, do more willingly amuse and busy themselves in seeking out the reasons than in searching out the truth of them. They omit presuppositions but curiously examine consequences. They leave things and run to causes. Oh, conceited discoursers!
The knowledge of causes doth only concern Him, who hath the conduct of things, not us that have but the sufferance of them, and who according to our need, without entering into their beginning and essence, have perfectly the full and absolute use of them. Nor is wine more pleasant unto him that knows the first faculties [8] of it. Contrariwise, both the body and the mind interrupt and alter the right which they have of the world’s use and of themselves, commixing therewith the opinion of learning. [9] The effects concern us but the means nothing at all. To determine and distribute belongeth to superiority and regency, as accepting to subjection and apprenticeship. Let us reassume our custom. [10]
They commonly begin thus: How is such a thing done? Whereas they should say: Is such a thing done? Our discourse is capable to frame a hundred other worlds and find the beginnings and contexture of them. It needeth neither matter nor ground. Let it but run on; it will as well build upon emptiness as upon fullness, and with inanity as with matter.
Dare pondus idonea fumo.
That things which vanish straight
In smoke, should yet bear weight. [11]
I find that we should say most times: There is no such thing. And I would often employ this answer, but I dare not, for they cry it is a defeature [12] produced by ignorance and weakness of spirit. And I must commonly juggle [13] for company’s sake to treat of idle subjects and frivolous discourses which I believe nothing at all. Since truly, it is a rude and quarelous [14] humour flatly to deny a proposition. And few miss [15] (especially in things hard to be persuaded) to affirm that they have seen it or to allege such witnesses as their authority shall stay our contradiction. According to which use, we know the foundation and means of a thousand things that never were. And the world is in a thousand questions descanted [16] and bandied to and fro; the pro and contra of which is merely false. Ita finitima sunt falsa veris, ut in præcipitem locum non debeat se sapiens committere. Falsehood is so near neighbour to truth that a wise man should not put himself upon a slippery downfall. [17]
Truth and falsehood have both alike countenances, their port, [18] their taste, and their proceedings semblable. [19] We behold them with one same eye. I observe that we are not only slow in defending ourselves from deceit, but that we seek and sue to embrace it. We love to meddle and entangle ourselves with vanity, as conformable unto our being. [20]
I have seen the birth of diverse miracles in my days. Although they be smothered in the first growth, we omit not to foresee the course they would have taken had they lived their full age. The matter is to find the end of the clue; [21] that found, one may wind off [22] what he list. And there is a further distance from nothing to the least thing in the world than between that and the greatest.
Now the first that are embrued [23] with the beginning of strangeness, coming to publish their history, find by the oppositions made against them where the difficulty of persuasion lodgeth, and go about with some false patch to botch up [24] those places. Besides that, Insita hominibus libidine alendi de industria rumores. Men having a natural desire to nourish reports. [25] We naturally make it a matter of conscience to restore what hath been lent us, without some usury and accession of our increase. [26] A particular error doth first breed a public error. And when his turn commeth, a public error begetteth a particular error. So goeth all this vast frame, from hand to hand, confounding and composing itself in such sort that the furthest-abiding [27] testimony is better instructed of it than the nearest, and the last informed better persuaded than the first. It is a natural progress. For whosoever believeth anything thinks it a deed of charity to persuade it unto another; which, that he may the better effect, he feareth not to add something of his own invention thereunto, so far as he seeth necessary in his discourse to supply the resistance and defect he imagineth to be in another’s conception.
Myself, who make an especial matter of conscience to lie and care not greatly to add credit or authority to what I say, perceive nevertheless by the discourses I have in hand that being earnested, [28] either by the resistance of another or by the earnestness [29] of my narration, I swell and amplify my subject by my voice, motions, vigor, and force of words, as also by extension and amplification, not without some prejudice to the naked truth. But yet I do it upon condition that to the first that brings me home again and enquireth for the bare and simple truth at my hands, I suddenly give over my hold and without exaggeration, emphasis, or amplification, I yield both myself and it unto him. A lively, earnest, and ready speech as mine is easily transported unto hyperboles.
There is nothing whereunto men are ordinarily more prone than to give way to their opinions. Wherever usual means fail us, we add commandment, force, fire, and sword. It is not without some ill fortune to come to that pass that the multitude of believers, in a throng where fools do in number so far exceed the wise, should be the best touchstone of truth. Quasi vero quidquam sit tam valde, quam nil sapere vulgare. Sanitatis patrocinium est, insanientium turba. As though anything were so common as to have no wit. [30] The multitude of them that are mad is a defence for them that are in their wits. [31] It is a hard matter for a man to resolve his judgement against common opinions. The first persuasion taken from the very subject seizeth on the simple; whence under the authority of the number and antiquity of testimonies, it extends itself on the wiser sort. As for me, in a matter which I could not believe being reported by one, I should never credit the same, though affirmed by a hundred. And I judge not opinions by years.
It is not long since one of our princes, in whom the gout had spoiled a gentle disposition and blithe composition, [32] suffered himself so far to be persuaded or misled by the report made unto him of the wondrous deeds of a priest who by way of charms, spells, and gestures cured all diseases that he undertook a long-tedious journey to find him out, and by the virtue of his apprehension did so persuade and for certain hours so lull his legs asleep that for a while he brought them to do him that service which for a long time they had forgotten. Had fortune heaped five or six like accidents one in the neck of another, they had doubtless been able to bring this miracle into nature. Whereas afterward there was so much simplicity and so little skill found in the architect of these works that he was deemed unworthy of any punishment. As likewise should be done with most such-like things were they thoroughly known in their nature. Miramur ex intervallo fallentia. We wonder at those things that deceive us by distance. [33] Our sight doth in such sort often represent us a far-off with strange images, which vanish in approaching nearer. Nunquam ad liquidum fama perducitur. Fame is never brought to be clear. [34]
It is a wonder to see how from many vain beginnings and frivolous causes so famous impressions do ordinarily arise and ensue. Even that hindereth the information of them. For whilst a man endeavoureth to find out causes, forcible and weighty ends, and worthy so great a name, he loseth the true and essential. They are so little that they escape our sight. And verily a right wise, heedy, [35] and subtle inquisitor is required in such questings, impartial and not preoccupated. [36] All these miracles and strange events are until this day hidden from me. I have seen no such monster, or more express wonder in this world, than myself. With time and custom a man doth acquaint and inure himself to all strangeness.
But the more I frequent and know myself, the more my deformity astonieth [37] me, and the less I understand myself.
The chiefest privilege to produce and advance such accidents is reserved unto fortune. Travelling yesterday thorough a village within two leagues of my house, I found the place yet warm of a miracle that was but newly failed and discovered, wherewith all the country thereabout [38] had for many months been amused and abused; and diverse bordering provinces began to listen unto it, and several troupes of all qualities [39] ceased not thick and threefold to flock thither. A young man of that town undertook one night in his own house (never dreaming of any knavery) to counterfeit the voice of a spirit or ghost but only for sport to make himself merry for that present. Which succeeding better than be had imagined, to make the jest extend further and himself the merrier, he made a country maiden acquainted with his device who, because she was both seely and harmless, consented to be secret and to second him. In the end they got another and were now three, all of one age and like sufficiency. And from private spirit-talking they began with hideous voices to cry and roar aloud, and in and about churches biding themselves under the chief altar, speaking but by night, forbidding any light to be set up. From speeches tending the world’s subversion and threatening of the day of judgement (which are the subjects by whose authority and abusive reverence imposture and illusion is more easily lurked), they proceeded to certain visions and strange gestures, so foolish and ridiculous, that there is scarce any thing more gross and absurd used among children in their childish sports. Suppose, I pray you, that fortune would have seconded this harmless device or juggling trick, who knoweth how far it would have extended and to what it would have grown? The poor seely [40] three devils are now in prison and may happily ere long pay dear for their common sottishness. [41] And I wot not whether some cheverell [42] judge or other will be avenged of them for his. [43] It is manifestly seen in this, which now is discovered. As also in diverse other things of like quality, exceeding our knowledge, I am of opinion that we uphold our judgement as well to reject as to receive. [44]
Shakespeare's Montaigne Page 36
