Michel de Montaigne.

To Mademoiselle de Montaigne, my Wife.—­[Printed as a preface to the “Consolation of Plutarch to his Wife,” pub. fished by Montaigne, with several other tracts by La Boetie, about 1571.]

My wife,—­You understand well that it is not proper for a man of the world, according to the rules of this our time, to continue to court and caress you; for they say that a sensible person may take a wife indeed, but that to espouse her is to act like a fool.  Let them talk; I adhere for my part the custom of the good old days; I also wear my hair as it used to be then; and, in truth, novelty costs this poor country up to the present moment so dear (and I do not know whether we have reached the highest pitch yet), that everywhere and in everything I renounce the fashion.  Let us live, my wife, you and I, in the old French method.  Now, you may recollect that the late M. de la Boetie, my brother and inseparable companion, gave me, on his death-bed, all his books and papers, which have remained ever since the most precious part of my effects.  I do not wish to keep them niggardly to myself alone, nor do I deserve to have the exclusive use of them; so that I have resolved to communicate them to my friends; and because I have none, I believe, more particularly intimate you, I send you the Consolatory Letter written by Plutarch to his Wife, translated by him into French; regretting much that fortune has made it so suitable a present you, and that, having had but one child, and that a daughter, long looked for, after four years of your married life it was your lot to lose her in the second year of her age.  But I leave to Plutarch the duty of comforting you, acquainting you with your duty herein, begging you to put your faith in him for my sake; for he will reveal to you my own ideas, and will express the matter far better than I should myself.  Hereupon, my wife, I commend myself very heartily to your good will, and pray God to have you in His keeping.  From Paris, this 10th September 1570.—­Your good husband,

Michel de Montaigne.

VIII.

To Monsieur Dupuy,—­[This is probably the Claude Dupuy, born at Paris in 1545, and one of the fourteen judges sent into Guienne after the treaty of Fleix in 1580.  It was perhaps under these circumstances that Montaigne addressed to him the present letter.]—­the King’s Councillor in his Court and Parliament of Paris.

Monsieur,—­The business of the Sieur de Verres, a prisoner, who is extremely well known to me, deserves, in the arrival at a decision, the exercise of the clemency natural to you, if, in the public interest, you can fairly call it into play.  He has done a thing not only excusable, according to the military laws of this age, but necessary and (as we are of opinion) commendable.  He committed the act, without doubt, unwillingly and under pressure;