About the fact that philosophizing means learning to die Michelle read, about what philosophizing means learning to die Michelle read for free, about what philosophizing means learning to die Michelle read online. About being philosophical

Cicero says that philosophizing this is nothing more than preparing oneself for death. And this is all the more true, because research and reflection draw our soul beyond the boundaries of our mortal self, tear it away from the body, and this is a kind of anticipation and semblance of death; in short, all the wisdom and all the reasoning in our world ultimately comes down to teaching us not to be afraid of death. And in fact, either our mind laughs at us, or, if this is not so, it should strive only for one single goal, namely, to ensure that we satisfy our desires, and all its activities should be aimed only at give us the opportunity to do good and live for our own pleasure, as stated in the Holy Scriptures. Everyone in this world firmly believes that our ultimate goal is pleasure, and the debate is only about how to achieve it; the opposite opinion would be immediately rejected, for who would listen to a person who claims that the goal of our efforts is our misfortunes and suffering?

Whatever they say, even in virtue itself the ultimate goal pleasure. I like to tease the ears of those who really don't like it with this word. And when it does denote the highest degree of pleasure and complete satisfaction, such pleasure depends more on virtue than on anything else. Becoming more alive, sharp, strong and courageous, such pleasure only becomes sweeter. And we should rather designate it with the softer, sweeter and more natural word “pleasure”, rather than with the word “lust”, as it is often called. As for this baser pleasure, if it deserves this beautiful name at all, it is only by way of rivalry, and not by right. I find that this kind of pleasure, even more than virtue, is associated with troubles and deprivations of all kinds. Not only is it fleeting, unsteady and transitory, it also has its own vigils, and its fasts, and its hardships, and sweat, and blood; moreover, it is associated with special, extremely painful and the most varied suffering, and then satiety, so painful that it can be equated to punishment. We are deeply mistaken in believing that these difficulties and obstacles also intensify pleasure and give it a special spice, just as it happens in nature, where opposites, colliding, pour new life into each other; but we fall into no less error when, moving on to virtue, we say that the difficulties and adversities associated with it turn it into a burden for us, make it something infinitely harsh and inaccessible, for there is much more here than in comparison with the above-mentioned pleasure , they ennoble, sharpen and intensify the divine and perfect pleasure which virtue bestows upon us. Truly unworthy of communion with virtue is the one who puts on the scales the sacrifices that it requires of us and the fruits it bears, comparing their weight; such a person does not imagine either the benefits of virtue or all its charm. If anyone claims that the achievement of virtue the matter is painful and difficult, and that only the possession of it is pleasant, it is the same as if he said that it is always unpleasant. Does man have such means by which anyone has at least once achieved complete possession of it? The bliss and happiness with which virtue shines fill with a bright radiance everything that has to do with it, from the threshold to its last limit. And one of its main benefits contempt for death; it gives our life calm and serenity, it allows us to taste its pure and peaceful joys; when is it not all other pleasures are poisoned.



Nothing attracted people to our religion more than the contempt for life inherent in it. And not only the voice of reason calls us to this, saying:

Is it worth being afraid of losing something, the loss of which can no longer cause

us regrets? but also this consideration: since we are threatened with so many types of death, is it not more painful to fear them all than to suffer just one?

What nonsense is it to be upset about moving to a place where we will get rid of

no matter what the upset!

Just as our birth brought for us the birth of everything around us, so our death will be the death of everything around us. Therefore, it is just as absurd to mourn that in a hundred years we will not be alive, as if we did not live a hundred years before. The death of one is the beginning of the life of another. We cried in exactly the same way, it cost us the same amount of effort to enter this life, and in the same way, entering it, we tore off our previous shell.

Something that happens only once cannot be painful. Does it make sense to tremble for such a long time before such a fleeting thing? How long to live, how long to live, does it matter, since both end in death?

However, nature does not allow us to live. She says: “Leave this world in the same way as you entered it. The same transition that you once dispassionately and painlessly made from death to life, you will now make from life to death. Your death is one of the links in the order governing the universe; she is a link in world life.

Am I really going to break this wondrous connection of things for your sake? Once death a prerequisite for your emergence, an integral part of yourself, which means you are trying to escape from yourself. Your existence, which you enjoy, one half belongs to life, the other of death. On the day you are born, you begin to live as much as you begin to die.

Every moment you live you steal from life; it is lived by you at her expense. Continuous occupation of your whole life is to cultivate death. While you are in life, you are in death, for death will leave you no sooner than you leave life.

Or, if you like, you become dead after living your life, but you will live it while dying: death, of course, strikes the dying person incomparably more powerfully than the dead one, much more sharply and deeply.

What do you care about her and when did you die and when are you alive? When alive because you exist; when they died because you no longer exist. No one dies before his time. The time that remains after you is no more yours than what passed before your birth; and your business here is a side. Think carefully about what is called eternal life, and you will understand how much more painful and unbearable it would be for a person than the one that I gave him. If you did not have death, you would endlessly shower me with curses for depriving you of it.

Exercise:

1. Comment on the statement that “philosophizing is this nothing more than preparing oneself for death”?

2. What do you think is the meaning of human life?

3. What do you think: is M. Montaigne’s teaching optimistic or pessimistic?

Niccolo Machiavelli

Biography and legacy

Niccolò Machiavelli (1467 – 1527) – Florentine politician, historian and writer. Machiavelli saw his calling in political activity; he always strived with all his soul to take an active part in events. The modest resources of the family of the future famous citizen of Florence did not allow Niccolo Machiavelli to receive an officially decent education. But his ability to self-educate was truly amazing. As a young man, Machiavelli became familiar with the basics of legal and commercial sciences, which was very useful to him in his future political life.

In 1498, Machiavelli successfully passed the competition and was appointed by decree Great Council to the post of Chancellor of the Second Chancellery, which was far from a minor position. During 14 years and 5 months of service, Machiavelli wrote more than four thousand official letters and reports, a large number of draft laws, government orders, military orders, and made many domestic and 23 foreign trips. He was given complex diplomatic assignments at the courts of the French king, the German emperor, Italian princes, the Pope...

Staying in different countries, Machiavelli studied in detail various forms of socio-political organizations, revealed their essential features, and objectively compared their capabilities. Based on the study of rich factual material, he posed and tried to solve important theoretical problems in the field of politics, state, management, and military affairs.

Machiavelli's political activity was interrupted by the dramatic events of the autumn of 1512 - the death of the republic. After the restoration of the Medici dynasty, Machiavelli was deprived of his post and the right to hold any public office and exiled. His life was in danger. But these events did not break Machiavelli: he found the strength to engage in literature and scientific research. He wanted to be useful to his great city.

Machiavelli's most famous work, The Prince, was written in 1513 and dedicated to Lorenzo the Magnificent, for Machiavelli hoped (in vain, as it turned out) to gain the favor of the Medici. The tone of the book may be due to this practical purpose. Machiavelli's larger work, Discourses, written at the same time as The Prince, is noticeably more republican and liberal in nature. In the first pages of The Prince, Machiavelli declares that in this book he will not talk about republics, because he touched on this topic elsewhere. The failure of the attempt at reconciliation with the Medici forced Machiavelli to continue writing. He lived in seclusion until his death, which followed in the same year, when Rome was sacked by the troops of Charles V. This year can also be considered the date of the death of the Italian Renaissance. The publication of "The Prince" was carried out only in 1532, after the death of the author (and Lorenzo "The Magnificent" - Medici).

At first glance, "The Sovereign" is a kind of manual on state management, a collection of algorithms like " if you want result A, do action B"And, as in any good guide, the author gives examples of the most frequently made mistakes and their possible consequences, examines the optimal ways to achieve the desired goal, and this work is interesting from the point of view of the successful combination of rich personal experience with a deep analysis of ancient sources relevant to the topic. Evaluating “The Sovereign” as a textbook for novice politicians, one can note the clear logic of the presentation and the ability to call things by their proper names, that is, the refusal of bashful attempts to cover up the “prose of life” with beautiful, but deceitful words, or even simply to bypass unpleasant, but however, the inevitable realities that arise when running a country. Thus, "The Sovereign" can be considered good practical labor - it summarizes the experience of past centuries and contemporary political events, contains original conclusions and useful recommendations from an experienced practitioner, a specialist in his field. For its time, the approach to politics as another branch of human knowledge is certainly unusual and new. But a purely practical approach is combined in “The Prince” with theoretical research, that is, answering the question “ How", Machiavelli tries to explain at the same time, " Why"certain phenomena occur in the life of the state; he sets goals that the ruler should strive for, and even tries to propose some ideal model of governing the country and the corresponding ideal head of state. Inside “The Prince,” Machiavelli considers what a ruler should be like in order to lead people to the founding of a new state. This ideal is embodied for him in a person who is a certain symbol of the collective will. The utopian element of Machiavelli's political ideology should be considered that the sovereign was a purely theoretical abstraction, a symbol of the leader, and not a political reality.

Here we can note the first internal contradiction of this work. Already from the title and further, from the entire text, it becomes clear that Machiavelli considers the only possible reasonable state structure to be monarchy (not in name, but in its inner essence), that is, the power of one strong man - not despotism, but tyranny - pure terrible domination, necessary and just, as long as it constitutes and preserves the state. Thus, for Machiavelli, the highest goal of politics in general and a statesman in particular is the creation of a new and at the same time viable state when necessary, or the maintenance and strengthening of the existing system where possible. In this case, the goal - the life of the country - justifies almost any means that lead to success, even if these means do not fit into the framework of generally accepted morality. Moreover, for the state the concept of good and bad, shameful and vile, of deceit and deceit has no force; it is above all this, for the evil in it is reconciled with itself.

The first commandment and the first duty of a sovereign is to instill in his subjects, if not love (firstly, this is quite difficult and not very reliable due to the inherent ingratitude of people, and, secondly, love that is not supported by brute force can be easily betrayed), then at least would be reverence based on respect, admiration and primitive fear. Machiavelli persistently convinces that a strong state can only be achieved by tirelessly caring for the welfare of the people. It is in this sense that Machiavelli understands the idea of ​​democracy; for him, the ideal government system is one that ensures the benefit of the majority. At the same time, Machiavelli even mentioned the physical elimination of an unruly and dangerous minority (the nobility) as an acceptable means of combating opponents, as long as this action was truly necessary and had a more or less legal appearance in the eyes of other citizens.

Among other practical problems in The Prince, Machiavelli considers the issue of defending the state from external and internal enemies. Against the former, Machiavelli offered only two weapons: successful political alliances and a strong army. As for foreign policy, Machiavelli advises the sovereign to rely not only on his own intelligence and strength, but also on “animal” cunning. It is in the foreign policy field that his ability to be not only a “lion”, but also a “fox” should come in handy, in order not only to keep the “wolves” at bay, but also to notice and bypass the traps and traps that have been set. The author warns that an unreasonable or careless politician faces many mortal dangers. It is dangerous to trust your allies too much, to rely too much on them, because not a single person will defend your interests as zealously as their own. It is dangerous to unconditionally believe the promises given to you - few people will keep their word if breaking it promises great benefit - but in politics the stakes in the game are the fate of states. It is dangerous and unwise to keep your own promise, if by not keeping it, you are gaining something for yourself, but it is also dangerous to be branded a liar. Thus, it is necessary to observe moderation in both lies and truth. Too strong allies are dangerous - it is not always possible to pull chestnuts out of the fire with the wrong hands, and, having allowed a strong ally into the sphere of your interests, you can one day discover that when dividing the spoils you got an unexpectedly small piece. Thus, for success in the field of foreign policy, the sovereign must be smart, cunning, resourceful, he must be able to foresee the consequences of every step he takes, must throw aside all principles of honor and concepts of morality and be guided solely by considerations of practical benefit. As a politician, the ideal sovereign must combine courage and determination with caution and foresight. Speaking about such qualities as cruelty and mercy, Machiavelli immediately writes that “every sovereign would like to be known as merciful, not cruel.” Another thing is that often in order to maintain power, the ruler has to show cruelty. If the country is threatened with disorder, then the sovereign is simply obliged to prevent this, even if he has to inflict several reprisals. But in relation to numerous subjects, these executions will be an act of mercy, since disorder would bring grief and suffering to them.

It was because of this part of the work that Machiavelli was accused of calling for cruelty and being unscrupulous in the choice of means. "The Prince" is a treatise on the role, place and significance of the head of state, and it has been declared a manual for absolute monarchs and dictators. But Machiavelli was not a promoter of cruelty and hypocrisy, but a researcher of the methods and essence of autocracy.

In addition, the accusers “did not notice” in the same chapter the following words of the author: “However, the new sovereign should not be gullible, suspicious and quick to reprisal; in all his actions he must be restrained, prudent and merciful.” Machiavelli justified the use of cruel measures only under unavoidable circumstances.

There seems to be an infinite number of points of view from which this work can be viewed. For example, “The Sovereign” was one of the first works, and in fact, a practical guide to international diplomacy. With this book, Machiavelli once again confirmed that he was one of the most brilliant diplomats of the era.

Also, considering the qualities that an ideal prince should have, Machiavelli was the first to New history spoke about the economy of the state as an integral part of its well-being. Considering stinginess as a human vice, but a virtue of a statesman, he pointed out the inadmissibility of too high taxes, that is, those that the population could no longer bear. Machiavelli argued that a sovereign can be generous only at the expense of other people's goods, military booty, for example, but not at the expense of the well-being of his subjects.

But one of the most important merits of Nicolo Machiavelli lies in the fact that for the first time in history he separated politics from morality and religion and made it an autonomous, independent discipline, with its inherent laws and principles, different from the laws of morality and religion. Politics, according to Machiavelli, is a symbol of human faith, and therefore it should occupy a dominant position in the worldview. Machiavelli's political ideology is aimed at achieving a specific political goal - the formation of a collective will, with the help of which a powerful, unified state can be created. According to Machiavelli, strong individuals have a strong influence on the historical process of state formation; they can also be called “great people.” great person has something in his appearance that makes others obey him against their own will. The advantage of a great man is to better feel and express a certain absolute will is what is really objectively necessary at the moment. It is through this sublime power that states are founded.

Sovereign(fragments )

Michel Montaigne

That philosophizing means learning to die

Cicero says that philosophizing is nothing more than preparing oneself for death. And this is all the more true, because research and reflection draw our soul beyond the boundaries of our mortal self, tear it away from the body, and this is a kind of anticipation and semblance of death; in short, all the wisdom and all the reasoning in our world ultimately comes down to teaching us not to be afraid of death. And in fact, either our mind laughs at us, or, if this is not so, it should strive only for one single goal, namely, to ensure that we satisfy our desires, and all its activities should be aimed only at give us the opportunity to do good and live for our own pleasure, as stated in the Holy Scriptures. Everyone in this world is firmly convinced that our ultimate goal is pleasure, and the debate is only about how to achieve it; the opposite opinion would be immediately rejected, for who would listen to a person who claims that the goal of our efforts is our misfortunes and suffering?

The disagreements between philosophical schools in this case are purely verbal. Transcurramus sollertissimas nugas. There is more stubbornness and bickering over trifles here than would befit people of such an exalted calling. However, no matter who a person undertakes to portray, he always plays himself at the same time. Whatever they say, even in virtue itself the ultimate goal is pleasure. I like to tease the ears of those who really don't like it with this word. And when it does denote the highest degree of pleasure and complete satisfaction, such pleasure depends more on virtue than on anything else. Becoming more alive, sharp, strong and courageous, such pleasure only becomes sweeter. And we should rather designate it with the softer, sweeter and more natural word “pleasure”, rather than with the word “lust”, as it is often called. As for this baser pleasure, if it deserves this beautiful name at all, it is only by way of rivalry, and not by right. I find that this kind of pleasure, even more than virtue, is associated with troubles and deprivations of all kinds. Not only is it fleeting, unsteady and transient, it also has its own vigils, and its fasts, and its hardships, and sweat, and blood; moreover, it is associated with special, extremely painful and the most varied suffering, and then - satiety, so painful that it can be equated with punishment. We are deeply mistaken in believing that these difficulties and obstacles also intensify pleasure and give it a special spice, just as it happens in nature, where opposites, colliding, pour into each other. friend a new life; but we fall into no less error when, moving on to virtue, we say that the difficulties and adversities associated with it turn it into a burden for us, make it something infinitely harsh and inaccessible, for there is much more here than in In comparison with the above-mentioned pleasure, they ennoble, sharpen and intensify the divine and perfect pleasure that virtue bestows on us. He is truly unworthy of communion with virtue who puts on the scales the sacrifices that it requires of us and the fruits it brings, comparing their weight; such a person does not imagine either the benefits of virtue or all its charm. If someone claims that the achievement of virtue is a painful and difficult matter and that only its possession is pleasant, it is the same as if he said that it is always unpleasant. Does man have such means by which anyone has at least once achieved complete possession of it? The most perfect among us considered themselves happy even when they had the opportunity to achieve it, to get even a little closer to it, without the hope of ever possessing it. But those who say this are mistaken: after all, the pursuit of all the pleasures known to us in itself gives us a pleasant feeling. The desire itself gives rise to the desired image in us, but it contains a good share of what our actions should lead to, and the idea of ​​a thing is one with its image in its essence. The bliss and happiness with which virtue shines fill with a bright radiance everything that has to do with it, from the threshold to its last limit. And one of its main benefits is contempt for death; it gives our life calm and serenity, it allows us to taste its pure and peaceful joys; when this is not the case, all other pleasures are poisoned.

That is why all philosophies meet and converge at this point. And although they unanimously command us to despise suffering, poverty and other adversities to which human life is subject, yet this should not be our primary concern, as because these adversities are no longer so inevitable (most people live their lives without experiencing poverty, and some - not even knowing what physical suffering and illness are, such as, for example, the musician Xenophilus, who died at the age of one hundred and six years and enjoyed excellent health until his death, and because, at worst, when we we wish, we can resort to the help of death, which will put a limit to our earthly existence and end our ordeals.But as for death, it is inevitable: Omnes eodem cogimur, omnium Versatur gurna, serius ocius Sors exitura et nos in aeternum Exitium impositura cymbae.

From which it follows that if it instills fear in us, then this is an eternal source of our torment, which cannot be alleviated. She creeps up on us from everywhere. We can turn around in all directions as much as we like, as we do in suspicious places: quae quasi saxum Tantalo semper impendet. Our parliaments often send criminals to carry out their death sentence to the very place where the crime was committed. Come with them along the way to the most luxurious houses, treat them there with the most exquisite dishes and drinks, non Siculae dares Dulcem elaborabunt saporem, Non avium cytharaeque cantus Somnum reducent; Do you think that they will be able to experience pleasure from this and that the final goal of their journey, which is always before their eyes, will not take away their taste for all this luxury, and it will not fade for them? Audit ier, numeratque dies, epatique viarum Metiur viam.torquetur peste futura.

The end point of our life's journey is death, the limit of our aspirations, and if it fills us with horror, then is it possible to take even one single step without trembling as if in a fever? The remedy used by ignorant people is not to think about it at all. But what animal stupidity is needed to possess such blindness! This is the only way to bridle the donkey by the tail. Qui capite ipse suo instituit vestigia retro, - and it is not surprising that such people often fall into a trap. They are afraid to call death by name, and most of them, when someone pronounces this word, cross themselves in the same way as when mentioning the devil. And since it is necessary to mention death in a will, do not expect them to think of making one before the doctor pronounces his last sentence on them; and God alone knows what state their mental faculties are in when, tormented by mortal torment and fear, they finally begin to cook it.

Since the syllable that meant “death” in the language of the Romans was too harsh on their ears, and they heard something ominous in its sound, they learned to either avoid it altogether or replace it with paraphrases. Instead of saying “he died,” they said “he ceased to live” or “he became obsolete.” Since life is mentioned here, even if it is completed, this brought them a certain consolation. We borrowed ours from here: “the late lord the name of the rivers.” On occasion, as they say, words are worth more than money. I was born between eleven o'clock and midnight, on the last day of February one thousand five hundred and thirty-three according to our current chronology, that is, considering January to be the beginning of the year." Two weeks ago the thirty-ninth year of my life ended, and I should live at least , as much more. It would be reckless, however, to refrain from thinking about such a distant thing, it would seem. In fact, both old and young alike go to the grave. Everyone passes away from life in no different way, as if he had just entered into her.

Add here that there is no such decrepit old man who, remembering Methuselah, would not expect to live another twenty years. But, pathetic fool, for what else are you? - who set the duration of your life? You're basing this on doctors' chatter. Take a better look at what surrounds you, turn to your personal experience. If we proceed from the natural course of things, then you have been living for a long time thanks to the special favor of heaven. You have exceeded the normal lifespan of a human being. And so that you can be convinced of this, count how many of your acquaintances died before your age, and you will see that there are many more of them than those who lived to reach your age. Moreover, compile a list of those who have adorned their lives with glory, and I will bet that there will be significantly more on it who died before the age of thirty-five than who crossed this threshold. Reason and piety command us to regard the life of Christ as the model of human life; but it ended for him when he was thirty-three years old. The greatest among men, this time just a man - I mean Alexander - died at the same age.

And what tricks does death have at its disposal to take us by surprise! Quid quisque vitet, nunquam homini satis Cautum est in horas.

I will not talk about fevers and pneumonia. But who would have thought that the Duke of Brittany would be crushed in the crowd, as happened when Pope Clement, my neighbor, entered Lyon? Have we not seen how one of our kings was killed while taking part in the general fun? And didn’t one of his ancestors die, wounded by a boar? Aeschylus, who was predicted to die crushed by a collapsing roof, could take as many precautions as he wanted; all of them turned out to be useless, for he was struck to death by the shell of a turtle that slipped out of the claws of the eagle that was carrying it away. So-and-so died from choking grape seed; such and such an emperor died from a scratch he inflicted on himself with a comb; Aemilius Lepidus stumbled over the threshold of his own room, and Aufidius was hurt by the door leading to the council meeting room. In the arms of women they passed away their days: the praetor Cornelius Gall, Tigellinus, chief of the city guard in Rome, Lodovico, son of Guido Gonzago, Marquis of Mantua, and also these examples will be even more sad - Speusippus, a philosopher of the school of Plato, and one of the popes. Poor Bebiy, the judge, having given a week's term to one of the litigants, immediately gave up the ghost, because the period given to him had expired. Gaius Julius, a doctor, also died suddenly; at that moment, when he lubricated the eyes of one of the patients, death closed his own. And among my relatives there were examples of this: my brother, Captain Saint-Martin, a twenty-three-year-old young man, who, however, had already managed to demonstrate his extraordinary abilities, was once during a game seriously hit by a ball, and the blow landed slightly above his right ear , did not cause a wound and did not even leave a bruise behind. Having received the blow, my brother did not lie down or even sit down, but five or six hours later he died from apoplexy caused by this bruise. Observing such frequent and such ordinary examples of this kind, can we get rid of the thought of death and not always and everywhere experience the feeling that it is already holding us by the collar.

But does it really matter, you say, how this happens to us? Just not to suffer! I am of the same opinion, and whatever way may be presented to me to hide from the raining blows, even under the skin of a calf, I am not such as to refuse it. I am satisfied with absolutely everything, as long as I feel at peace. And I will choose for myself the best share of all that will be provided to me, no matter how little honorable and modest it may be, in your opinion: praetulerim dclirus inersque videri Dumea delectent mala me, vel denique fallant, Quam expere et rlngi.

But it would be real madness to entertain hopes that in this way one can go to another world. People scurry back and forth, mark time in one place, dance, but there is no sign of death. Everything is fine, everything is as good as possible. But if she comes, either to them or to their wives, children, friends, taking them by surprise, defenseless, what torment, what cries, what rage and what despair will immediately take possession of them! Have you ever seen anyone so depressed, so changed, so confused? It would be good to think about these things in advance. And such animal carelessness - if only it is possible for any thinking man(in my opinion, it is completely impossible) - forces us to buy its benefits at too high a price. If death were like an enemy from which one could escape, I would advise the use of this weapon of cowards. But since it is impossible to escape from it, for it equally overtakes the fugitive, be he a rogue or an honest man, Nempe et fugasem persequitur virum, Nec parcit imbellis iuventae Poplitibus, timldoque tergo, and since even the best armor will not protect against it, Ille licet ferro cautus se condat et aere, Mors tamen Inclusum protrahet inde caput, let us learn to meet her with our breasts and engage in single combat with her. And, in order to take away her main trump card, we will choose the path directly opposite to the usual one. Let's deprive it of its mystery, take a closer look at it, get used to it, thinking about it more often than about anything else. Let us everywhere and always evoke her image in ourselves and, moreover, in all possible guises. If a horse stumbles under us, if a tile falls from the roof, if we prick ourselves on a pin, we will repeat to ourselves every time: “What if this is death itself?” Thanks to this, we will become stronger and more resilient. In the midst of the celebration, in the midst of the fun, let the same refrain invariably ring in our ears, reminiscent of our destiny; Let us not allow pleasures to overwhelm us so much that from time to time the thought does not flash through our minds: how fragile our cheerfulness is, being constantly a target for death, and to what unexpected blows our life is subject to! This is what the Egyptians did, who had the custom of bringing into the ceremonial hall, along with the best dishes and drinks, the mummy of some deceased person, so that it would serve as a reminder for those feasting. Omnem crede diem tibi diluxlaae supremum. Grata superveniet, quae non sperabitur hora.

It is unknown where death awaits us; so let us expect her everywhere. To think about death is to think about freedom. He who has learned to die has forgotten how to be a slave. The willingness to die frees us from all submission and coercion. And there is no evil in life for one who has realized that losing life is not evil. When a messenger from the unfortunate king of Macedon, his captive, came to Paul Aemilius, conveying the latter’s request not to force him to follow the triumphal chariot, he replied: “Let him address this request to himself.”

To tell the truth, in any business, skill and diligence alone, if something else is not given by nature, you will not get much. I am not melancholic by nature, but I am prone to daydreaming. And nothing has ever occupied my imagination more than images of death. Even at the most frivolous time of my life Iucundum cum aetas florida ver ageret, when I lived among women and amusements, others used to think that I was tormented by the pangs of jealousy or dashed hope, while in reality my thoughts were absorbed in some familiar, who died the other day from a fever that he caught while returning from the same celebration, with a soul full of bliss, love and excitement that had not yet cooled down, just as it happens to me, and in my ears it was constantly ringing: Jam fuerit. nes post unquam revocare licebit.

These thoughts did not furrow my forehead more than all the others. However, it does not happen, of course, that such images do not cause us pain when they first appear. But by returning to them again and again, you can eventually get comfortable with them. Otherwise - this would be the case, at least with me - I would live in constant fear of unrest, for no one ever trusted their life less than mine, no one counted less on its duration than I did. And the excellent health, which I enjoy now and which has been disturbed very rarely, cannot in the least strengthen my hopes on this score, nor can illness diminish anything from them. I am constantly haunted by the feeling that I am constantly eluding death. And I endlessly whisper to myself: “What is possible on any day is also possible today.” Indeed, dangers and accidents almost, or more correctly, do not bring us any closer to our final line; and if we imagine that, in addition to such and such a misfortune, which, apparently, threatens us most of all, millions of others hang over our heads, we will understand that death is really always near us - even when we are cheerful , and when we are burning with fever, and when we are at sea, and when at home, and when in battle, and when we are resting. Nemo altero fragilior est: nemo in crastinum sui certior. It always seems to me that before death comes I will never have time to finish the work that I must do, even if it took no more than an hour to complete it. One of my acquaintances, once sorting through my papers, found among them a note about a certain thing that, according to my desire, was to be done after my death. I told him how the matter stood: being at a distance of some leagues from home, quite healthy and cheerful, I hastened to write down my will, since I was not sure that I would have time to get to myself. By harboring thoughts of this kind and driving them into my head, I am always prepared for the fact that this could happen to me at any moment. And no matter how suddenly death comes to me, there will be nothing new for me in its arrival.

It is necessary that you always have your boots on, you need, as far as it depends on us, to be constantly ready for a hike, and especially to beware, lest at the hour of performance we should be at the mercy of other concerns than about ourselves. Quid brevi fortes iaculamur aevo Multa?

After all, we already have enough worries. One complains not so much even about death itself, but about the fact that it will prevent him from finishing the work he has started with brilliant success; another - that you have to move to the next world without having time to arrange your daughter’s marriage or oversee the education of your children; this one mourns the separation from his wife, the other from his son, since they were the joy of his whole life.

As for me, I, thank God, am ready to leave here whenever He pleases, not grieving about anything except life itself, if leaving it will be painful for me. I am free from all fetters; I have already half said goodbye to everyone except myself. There has never been a person who was so thoroughly prepared to leave this world, a person who would renounce it so completely, as I hope I was able to do. Miser, oh miser, alunt, omnia ademit Una dies infesta mihi tot praemia vitae.

And here are the words suitable for those who like to build: Manent opera interrupta, minaeque Murorum ingentes.

However, you should not think so far ahead in anything, or, in any case, be filled with such great sorrow because you will not be able to see the completion of what you started. We are born for activity: Cum moriar, medium solvar et inter opus.

I want people to act, so that they fulfill the duties imposed on them by life as best as possible, so that death overtakes me while planting cabbage, but I want to remain completely indifferent to it, and, especially, to my not fully cultivated garden. I happened to see one dying man who, right before his death, did not cease to express regret that evil fate had cut off the thread of the history he was composing on the fifteenth or sixteenth of our kings. Illud in his rebus non addunt, nes tibi earum lam desiderium rerum auper insidet una.

We need to get rid of these cowardly and disastrous attitudes. And just as our cemeteries are located near churches or in the most visited places of the city, in order to teach, as Lycurgus said, children, women and common people not to be frightened at the sight of the dead, and also so that human remains, graves and funerals, which we observe every day per day, constantly reminded of the fate awaiting us, Quin etiam exhilarare viris convivia caede Mos olim, et miscere epulis spectacula dira certantum ferro, saepe et super ipsa cadentum Pocula respereis non parco sanguine mensis; just as the Egyptians, at the end of the feast, showed those present a huge image of death, and the one holding it exclaimed: “Drink and be glad in heart, for when you die, you will be the same,” so I taught myself not only to think about death, but also talk about it always and everywhere. And there is nothing that attracts me more than stories about the death of such and such; what they said at the same time, what their faces were like, how they behaved; the same applies to historical works, in which I especially carefully study the places where the same thing is said. This is evident from the abundance of examples I give and from the extraordinary passion that I have for such things. If I were a writer of books, I would compile a collection describing various deaths, providing it with comments. He who teaches people to die teaches them to live.

Dicaearchus compiled a similar book, giving it an appropriate title, but he was guided by a different, and, moreover, less useful goal.

They will probably tell me that reality is much more terrible than our ideas about it and that there is no such a skilled swordsman who would not be troubled in spirit when it comes to this. Let them tell themselves, but still thinking about death in advance is, without a doubt, a useful thing. And then, is it really a trifle to go to the last line without fear and trembling? And more than that: nature itself rushes to our aid and encourages us. If death is quick and violent, we do not have time to be filled with fear of it; if it is not like that, then, as far as I could notice, as I gradually become drawn into the illness, I at the same time naturally begin to be imbued with a certain disdain for life. I find it much more difficult to resolve to die when I am healthy than when I have a fever. Since the joys of life no longer attract me with such force as before, because I stop using them and getting pleasure from them, I look at death with less frightened eyes. This gives me hope that the further I move away from life and the closer I come to death, the easier it will be for me to get used to the idea that one will inevitably replace the other. Having convinced myself from many examples of the truth of Caesar's remark that from afar things often seem much larger to us than when they are close up, I similarly discovered that, being completely healthy, I was much more afraid of illnesses than when they made themselves known: cheerfulness, joy of life and a sense of my own health make me imagine an opposite state so different from the one in which I find myself that I greatly exaggerate in my imagination the troubles caused by illnesses, and consider them more painful than they actually turn out to be when they overtake me. I hope that with death things will be no different.

Let us now consider how nature acts to deprive us of the ability to feel, despite the continuous changes for the worse and the gradual decay that we all undergo, both our losses and our gradual destruction. What remains for the old man of the strength of his youth, of his former life? Heu senibus vitae portio quanta manet.

When one of Caesar's bodyguards, old and exhausted, met him on the street, approached him and asked him to let him die. Caesar, seeing how weak he was, replied rather wittily: “So, it turns out, you imagine yourself alive?” I don’t think we could bear such a transformation if it came upon us completely suddenly. But life leads us by the hand along a gentle, almost imperceptible slope, little by little, until it plunges us into this pitiful state, forcing us to gradually get used to it. That is why we do not feel any shock when the death of our youth occurs, which, rightly, in its essence is much more cruel than the death of a barely warm life, or the death of our old age. After all, the leap from being-vegetation to non-existence is less painful than from being-joy and prosperity to being-sorrow and torment.

A twisted and bent body is unable to bear a heavy load; it’s the same with our soul: it needs to be straightened and raised so that it is able to fight such an opponent. For if it is impossible for her to remain calm, trembling before him, then, having gotten rid of him, she acquires the right to boast - although this, one might say, almost exceeds human capabilities - that there is no more room left in her for anxiety, torment, fear or even the slightest disappointment. Non vultus instantis tyrainni Mente quatit solida, neque Austor Dux inquieti turbidus Adriae, Nec fulminantis magna lovis manus.

She became the mistress of her passions and desires; she rules over need, humiliation, poverty and all other vicissitudes of fate. So let's each, to the best of our ability, achieve such an important advantage! This is where true and unfettered freedom lies, giving us the opportunity to despise violence and tyranny and laugh at prisons and shackles: In manicis. et Compedibus, saevo te sub custode tenebo. Ipse deus simul atque volam, me solvet: opinor Hoc sentit, moriar. Mere ultima linea rerum est.

Nothing attracted people to our religion more than the contempt for life inherent in it. And not only the voice of reason calls us to this, saying: is it worth being afraid of losing something, the loss of which can no longer cause us regret? - but also this consideration: since we are threatened with so many types of death, isn’t it more painful to fear them all than to suffer just one? And since death is inevitable, does it matter when it appears? To the one who said to Socrates: “Thirty tyrants condemned you to death,” the latter replied: “And nature condemned them to death.”

What nonsense it is to be upset about moving to a place where we will be freed from any kind of grief!

Just as our birth brought for us the birth of everything around us, so our death will be the death of everything around us. Therefore, it is just as absurd to mourn that in a hundred years we will not be alive, as that we did not live a hundred years before. The death of one is the beginning of the life of another. We cried in exactly the same way, it cost us the same amount of effort to enter this life, and in the same way, entering it, we tore off our previous shell.

Something that happens only once cannot be painful. Does it make sense to tremble for such a long time before such a fleeting thing? How long to live, how long to live, does it matter, since both end in death? For for that which no longer exists, there is neither long nor short. Aristotle says that the Hypanis River is inhabited by tiny insects that live no longer than one day. Those of them who die at eight o'clock in the morning die very young; those who die at five o'clock in the evening die at an advanced age. Who among us would not laugh if they called both of them happy or unhappy, taking into account the length of their lives? It is almost the same with our century, if we compare it with eternity or with the duration of the existence of mountains, rivers, heavenly bodies, trees and even some animals.

However, nature does not allow us to live. She says: “Leave this world in the same way as you entered it. The same transition that you once dispassionately and painlessly made from death to life, you will now make from life to death. Your death is one of the links in the order governing the universe; she is a link in the life of the world: inter se mortales mutua vivunt Et quasi cursores vital lampada tradunt.

Am I really going to break this wondrous connection of things for your sake? Since death is a prerequisite for your emergence, an integral part of yourself, it means that you are trying to escape from yourself. Your existence, which you enjoy, one half belongs to life, the other to death. On the day of your birth you begin to live as much as you begin to die: Prima, quae vitam dedit, hora, carpsit. Nascentes morimur, finiaque ab origine pendet.

Every moment you live you steal from life; it is lived by you at her expense. The continuous occupation of your whole life is to cultivate death. While you are in life, you are in death, for death will leave you no sooner than you leave life.

Or, if you like, you become dead after living your life, but you will live it while dying: death, of course, strikes the dying person incomparably more powerfully than the dead one, much more sharply and deeply.

If you have known the joys in life, you have had enough of them; so leave with satisfaction in your heart: Cur non ut plenus vitae conviva recedis?

If you failed to use it, if it was stingy for you, what do you care if you lost it, what use is it to you? Cur amplius addere quaeris Rursum quod pereat male, et ingratum occidat omne?

Life in itself is neither good nor evil: it is the container of both good and evil. depending on what you yourself have turned it into. And if you have lived just one day, you have already seen everything. Every day is the same as all other days. There is no other light, no other darkness. This sun, this moon, these stars, this structure of the universe - all this is the same thing that your ancestors tasted of and that will raise your descendants: Non alium videre: patrea aliumve nepotes Aspicient.

And, at worst, all the acts of my comedy, with all their diversity, take place within one year. If you looked closely at the round dance of the four seasons, you could not help but notice that they embrace all ages of the world: childhood, youth, maturity and old age. After a year, he has nothing more to do. And all he can do is start all over again. And so it will always be: versamur ibidem, atque insumus usque atque in ae aua per vestigia volvitur annus.

Or do you imagine that I will create some new entertainment for you? Nam tibi praeterea quod machiner, inveniamque Quod placeat, nihll eat, eadem aunt omnia semper.

Make room for others, just as others have made room for you. Equality is the first step towards justice. Who can complain that he is doomed if everyone else is doomed too? No matter how long you live, you cannot shorten the time during which you will remain dead. All efforts here are pointless: you will remain in that state that fills you with such horror for the same amount of time as if you had died in the arms of a nurse: licet, quod vis, vivendo vincere saecla. Mors aeterna tamen nihilominus illa manebit.

And I will lead you to a place where you will not experience any grief: In vera nescis nullum fore morte alium te, Qui possit vivua tibi lugere peremotum. Stansque lacentem.

And you will not desire the life you so regret: Nec sibi enim quiaquam turn se vitamque requirit, Nec desiderium nostri nos afflcit ullum.

The fear of death should be more insignificant than nothing, if there is anything more insignificant than this last: multo mortem minus ad nod esse putandum Si minus esse potest quam quod nihil esse videmus.

What do you care about it - both when you died and when you are alive? When you are alive - because you exist; when you died - because you no longer exist.

No one dies before his time. The time that remains after you is no more yours than what passed before your birth; and your business is here: Respice enim quam nil ad nos ante acta vetustas Temporiis aeterni fuerit.

Wherever your life ends, that's where it ends. The measure of life is not in its duration, but in how you used it: some lived a long time, but lived a short time; don't hesitate while you're here. Your will, not the number of years you have lived, determines the length of your life. Did you really think that you would never get where you are going without stopping? Is there such a road that would have no end? And if you can find consolation in good company, then isn’t the whole world following the same path as you? Omnia te vita porfuncta sequentur.

Doesn't everything around you begin to stagger as soon as you yourself stagger? Is there anything that doesn't age with you? Thousands of people, thousands of animals, thousands of other creatures die in the same instant as you: Nam nox nulla diem, neque noctem aurora secuta est, Quae non audierit mistos vagitibus aegris Ploratus, mortis cimits et funeris atri.

What's the use of backing away from something you can't get away from anyway? You have seen many who died at the right time, because, thanks to this, they were delivered from great misfortunes. But have you ever seen anyone to whom death caused them? It is not very smart to condemn something that you have not experienced, either on yourself or on another. Why are you complaining about me and about your fate? Are we being unfair to you? Who should rule: us, you, or you, us? Even before your terms are completed, your life has already ended. A little man is just as complete a person as a big one. Neither people nor human life can be measured with elbows. Chiron rejected immortality for himself, having learned from Saturn, his father, the god of endless time, what the properties of this immortality are. Think carefully about what is called eternal life, and you will understand how much more painful and unbearable it would be for a person than the one that I gave him. If you did not have death, you would endlessly shower me with curses for depriving you of it. I deliberately mixed a little bitterness into it in order, taking into account its availability, to prevent you from rushing too greedily and recklessly towards it. In order to instill in you the moderation that I demand of you, namely, so that you do not turn away from life and at the same time do not run away from death, I made both of them half sweet and half sorrowful.

I inspired Thales, the first of your sages, with the idea that living and dying are one and the same thing. And when someone asked him why, in this case, he still does not die, he very wisely answered: “Precisely because it is the same thing.

Water, earth, air, fire and other things from which my building is composed are as much the instruments of your life as the instruments of your death. Why should you be afraid of the last day? He only contributes to your death to the same extent as everyone else. The last step is not the cause of fatigue, it only makes it felt. All the days of your life lead you to death; the latter only leads to it.”

These are the good instructions of our mother nature. I have often thought about why death in war - no matter whether it concerns ourselves or someone else - seems to us incomparably less terrible than at home; otherwise, the army would consist of only crybabies and doctors; and one more thing: why, despite the fact that death is the same everywhere, peasants and people of low rank treat it much more simply than everyone else? I believe that it has to do with the sad faces and the frightening environment among which we see her and which give rise to fear in us even greater than death itself. What a new, completely unusual picture: the moans and sobs of a mother, wife, children, confused and embarrassed visitors, the services of numerous servants, their tear-stained and pale faces, a room into which daylight is not allowed, lit candles, doctors and priests at our bedside! In short, there is nothing around us but fear and horror. We are already clothed alive in a shroud and buried. Children are afraid of their new friends when they see them wearing a mask - the same thing happens to us. It is necessary to tear off this mask both from things and, especially, from a person, and when it is torn off, we will find under it the same death that shortly before this our old valet or maid endured without any fear. Blessed is death, which did not give time for these magnificent preparations.

To philosophize is... to prepare oneself for death. - Cicero. Tusculan Conversations, I, 30.

Live for your own pleasure... - See Ecclesiastes, III, 12.

Let's leave these small tricks (lat). - Seneca. Letters, 117, 30.

Xenophilus, who died at the age of one hundred and six years... - Valery Maxim, VIII, 13, 3. Here Montaigne is inaccurate: Xenophilus is a philosopher, and Aristoxenus is a musician.

We are all drawn to the same thing; the urn is shaken for everyone, whether later or earlier, the lot will fall and the boat will condemn us to eternal destruction

[Charon] (lat.). - Horace. Odes, II, 3, 25 pages

She always threatens, like the rock of Tantalus (lat.). - Cicero. On the highest good and the highest evil, I, 18.

Neither Sicilian dishes will delight him, nor the singing of birds and playing the cithara will return him to sleep (lat.). Horace. Odes. III, I. 18 pages.

He worries about the path, counts the days, measures life by the distance of the roads and is tormented by thoughts of future disasters (lat.). - Claudian. Against Rufinus, II, 137-138.

He decided to walk with his head turned backwards (lat). - Lucretius, IV, 472.

The syllable that meant “death” in the Roman language... - In Latin, death is mors. ...according to our current calendar... - Charles IX, by an ordinance of 1563, ordered that January 1 be considered the beginning of the year. Previously, the year began with Easter.

Remembering Methuselah... - According to biblical legend, Patriarch Methuselah lived 969 years.

A person is not able to foresee what he should avoid at any given moment (lat.). - Horace, Odes, II, 13, 13-14.

Who could... think that the Duke of Breton would be crushed in the crowd... - Montaigne means the Duke of Breton, Jean II, who died in 1305. Clement V was the Archbishop of Bordeaux before his election as pope; that's why Montaigne calls him his neighbor.

One of our kings was killed... in common amusement... - This is how Henry II ended his life, mortally wounded in 1559 at a tournament that was held on the occasion of his daughter’s wedding.

The wounded boar died. - Philip IV the Fair, persecutor of the Templars, died hunting in 1131.

He died by choking on a grape seed... - According to legend, this is how the ancient Greek lyricist Anacreon died (VI century BC).

I would prefer to appear weak-minded and untalented, if only my shortcomings entertained me or at least deceived me, than to be aware of them and tormented by it (lat.). - Horace. Epistles, II, 2,126 pages. as long as my shortcomings amuse me...

After all, she pursues the fugitive husband and does not spare either the hamstrings or the timid back of the cowardly young man (lat). - Horace. Odes, III. 2. 14 cl.

Even though he had prudently covered himself with iron and copper, death would still remove his protected head (armor) from the armor. - Proportions, III, 18, 25-26.

Consider every day that falls to you as your last, and the hour for which you did not hope will be sweet (latin). - Horace. Epistles, I, 4, 13-14.

When will you survive my blooming age! your merry spring (lat). Catullus, LXVIII, 16.

He will outlive his time, and it will never be possible to call him back (lat.). Lucretius, III, 915.

Every person is as fragile as everyone else; everyone is equally unsure of the future (lat.). - Seneca. Letters, 91, 16.

Why should we boldly strive for so much in a fast-paced life? (Latin). - Horace. Odes, II. 16, 17.

Oh, wretched me, oh pitiful! - they exclaim. - One sad day took away the gifts of life from me (lat). Lucretius. III, 898-899.

The work remains unfinished, and the high battlements of the walls (armor) are not finished. - Virgil. Aeneid, IV, 88 ff. Quoted inaccurately. In Virgil, instead of manent - pendent.

I want death to overtake me in the midst of my labors (lat). - Ovid. Love poems, II, 10, 86.

But here’s what they don’t add: you no longer have the desire for all this after death (lat.). - Lucretius, III, 900-901.

In the old days, it was the custom of husbands to enliven feasts with murder and to add to the meal the cruel spectacle of combatants, who sometimes fell among the pieces, pouring copious amounts of blood on the feast tables (lat). Silius Italik. Punic Wars, XI, 51 ff.

Dicaearchus is an ancient Greek philosopher who denies the existence of the soul and claims that it is only a body in a “certain state” (IV century BC).

Alas! How little life is left to the elders (lat.). - Maximian. Elegy, I, 16.

Nothing can shake the fortitude of his soul: neither the gaze of the formidable tyrant, nor Austr [the south wind], the violent ruler of the stormy Adriatic, nor the powerful hand of the thunderer Jupiter (lat.). - Horace. Odes, III, 3, 8 words.

"Handcuffed and shackled at your feet, I will keep you at the mercy of a stern jailer." - “God himself, as soon as I want, will free me.” I think he was thinking, "I'm going to die." For in death is the end of everything (lat.). Horace. Epistles, I, 16, 76 ff.

Thirty tyrants condemned you to death... - Here Montaigne is inaccurate: Socrates was sentenced to death not by the Thirty Tyrants (404 BC), but by the Athenian jury in 399 BC. e. For the given story, see: Diogenes Laerscius, II. 35.

It’s the same with our century, if we compare it with eternity... - This thought of Montaigne is extremely important: it proves that, contrary to Catholic doctrine, Montaigne denies the immortality of the soul (Montaigne repeats this thought in other places of his Essays). It should be noted that throughout this entire chapter, as in the previous one, where Montaigne examines the issue of death from different points of view, he nowhere, however, mentions the observance of the Catholic ritual.

Mortals take over life one from another... and like walkers, they pass one to another the lamp of life (lat.). - Lucretius, II, 76, 79.

The very first hour that gave us life shortened it (lat.). - Seneca. Furious Hercules, 874.

When we are born, we die; the end is conditioned by the beginning (lat.). - Manilius. Astronomy, IV, 16.

Why don’t you leave this life like a sated diner [from a feast]? (latin). - Lucretius. III, 938.

Why do you strive to prolong something that will perish and is condemned to disappear without a trace? (Latin). - Lucretius, III, 941-942.

This is what our fathers saw, this is what our descendants will see (latin). Manilius. Astronomy, I, 522-523.

Here Montaigne connects two verses - one from Lucretius, the other from Virgil: 1) “We revolve and always remain among the same thing” (Lucretius, III, 1080);... 2) “And to ourselves, in our own footsteps, returns year" (latin). (Virgil. Georgics, II, 402).

For. no matter what I [Nature] comes up with, no matter what I invent, there is nothing that you would not like, everything always remains the same (lat.). Lucretius, III, 944-945.

You can win as much as you like with the life of a century, but you still face eternal death (lat.). - Lucretius, III, 1090-1091.

Don’t you know that after true death there will be no second you who could, alive, mourn you, the deceased, standing over the one lying (lat). Lucretius, III, 855 pp.

And then no one cares about himself or about life... and we no longer have sadness about ourselves (lat.). - Lucretius, III, 919, 922

For notice, the eternity of past times is complete nothingness for us (lat.). - Lucretius, III, 972-973.

And, having lived your life, everyone will follow you (lat). - Lucretius, III, 968.

There was not a single night that replaced the day, not a single dawn that replaced the night, who did not have to hear the lamentations mixed with the plaintive crying of small children, these companions of death and sorrowful funerals (lat.). - Lucretius, II, 578 pp.

The centaur Chiron, who raised Hercules and later Achilles, was the son of Cronus and the nymph Phillyra. Wounded by a poisoned arrow, he began to pray to the gods to send him death; then Zeus took pity on him and moved him to heaven; This is how the constellation Sagittarius arose (Greco-Roman mythology).

Montaigne Michel

Michel Montaigne

That philosophizing means learning to die

Cicero says that philosophizing is nothing more than preparing oneself for death. And this is all the more true, because research and reflection draw our soul beyond the boundaries of our mortal self, tear it away from the body, and this is a kind of anticipation and semblance of death; in short, all the wisdom and all the reasoning in our world ultimately comes down to teaching us not to be afraid of death. And in fact, either our mind laughs at us, or, if this is not so, it should strive only for one single goal, namely, to ensure that we satisfy our desires, and all its activities should be aimed only at give us the opportunity to do good and live for our own pleasure, as stated in the Holy Scriptures. Everyone in this world is firmly convinced that our ultimate goal is pleasure, and the debate is only about how to achieve it; the opposite opinion would be immediately rejected, for who would listen to a person who claims that the goal of our efforts is our misfortunes and suffering?

The disagreements between philosophical schools in this case are purely verbal. Transcurramus sollertissimas nugas. There is more stubbornness and bickering over trifles here than would befit people of such an exalted calling. However, no matter who a person undertakes to portray, he always plays himself at the same time. Whatever they say, even in virtue itself the ultimate goal is pleasure. I like to tease the ears of those who really don't like it with this word. And when it does denote the highest degree of pleasure and complete satisfaction, such pleasure depends more on virtue than on anything else. Becoming more alive, sharp, strong and courageous, such pleasure only becomes sweeter. And we should rather designate it with the softer, sweeter and more natural word “pleasure”, rather than with the word “lust”, as it is often called. As for this baser pleasure, if it deserves this beautiful name at all, it is only by way of rivalry, and not by right. I find that this kind of pleasure, even more than virtue, is associated with troubles and deprivations of all kinds. Not only is it fleeting, unsteady and transient, it also has its own vigils, and its fasts, and its hardships, and sweat, and blood; moreover, it is associated with special, extremely painful and the most varied suffering, and then - satiety, so painful that it can be equated with punishment. We are deeply mistaken in believing that these difficulties and obstacles also intensify pleasure and give it a special spice, just as it happens in nature, where opposites, colliding, pour into each other. friend a new life; but we fall into no less error when, moving on to virtue, we say that the difficulties and adversities associated with it turn it into a burden for us, make it something infinitely harsh and inaccessible, for there is much more here than in In comparison with the above-mentioned pleasure, they ennoble, sharpen and intensify the divine and perfect pleasure that virtue bestows on us. He is truly unworthy of communion with virtue who puts on the scales the sacrifices that it requires of us and the fruits it brings, comparing their weight; such a person does not imagine either the benefits of virtue or all its charm. If someone claims that the achievement of virtue is a painful and difficult matter and that only its possession is pleasant, it is the same as if he said that it is always unpleasant. Does man have such means by which anyone has at least once achieved complete possession of it? The most perfect among us considered themselves happy even when they had the opportunity to achieve it, to get even a little closer to it, without the hope of ever possessing it. But those who say this are mistaken: after all, the pursuit of all the pleasures known to us in itself gives us a pleasant feeling. The desire itself gives rise to the desired image in us, but it contains a good share of what our actions should lead to, and the idea of ​​a thing is one with its image in its essence. The bliss and happiness with which virtue shines fill with a bright radiance everything that has to do with it, from the threshold to its last limit. And one of its main benefits is contempt for death; it gives our life calm and serenity, it allows us to taste its pure and peaceful joys; when this is not the case, all other pleasures are poisoned.

That is why all philosophies meet and converge at this point. And although they unanimously command us to despise suffering, poverty and other adversities to which human life is subject, yet this should not be our primary concern, as because these adversities are no longer so inevitable (most people live their lives without experiencing poverty, and some - not even knowing what physical suffering and illness are, such as, for example, the musician Xenophilus, who died at the age of one hundred and six years and enjoyed excellent health until his death, and because, at worst, when we we wish, we can resort to the help of death, which will put a limit to our earthly existence and end our ordeals.But as for death, it is inevitable: Omnes eodem cogimur, omnium Versatur gurna, serius ocius Sors exitura et nos in aeternum Exitium impositura cymbae.

From which it follows that if it instills fear in us, then this is an eternal source of our torment, which cannot be alleviated. She creeps up on us from everywhere. We can turn around in all directions as much as we like, as we do in suspicious places: quae quasi saxum Tantalo semper impendet. Our parliaments often send criminals to carry out their death sentence to the very place where the crime was committed. Come with them along the way to the most luxurious houses, treat them there with the most exquisite dishes and drinks, non Siculae dares Dulcem elaborabunt saporem, Non avium cytharaeque cantus Somnum reducent; Do you think that they will be able to experience pleasure from this and that the final goal of their journey, which is always before their eyes, will not take away their taste for all this luxury, and it will not fade for them? Audit ier, numeratque dies, epatique viarum Metiur viam.torquetur peste futura.

The end point of our life's journey is death, the limit of our aspirations, and if it fills us with horror, then is it possible to take even one single step without trembling as if in a fever? The remedy used by ignorant people is not to think about it at all. But what animal stupidity is needed to possess such blindness! This is the only way to bridle the donkey by the tail. Qui capite ipse suo instituit vestigia retro, - and it is not surprising that such people often fall into a trap. They are afraid to call death by name, and most of them, when someone pronounces this word, cross themselves in the same way as when mentioning the devil. And since it is necessary to mention death in a will, do not expect them to think of making one before the doctor pronounces his last sentence on them; and God alone knows what state their mental faculties are in when, tormented by mortal torment and fear, they finally begin to cook it.

Whatever they say, even in virtue itself the ultimate goal is pleasure.

And one of its main benefits is contempt for death; it gives our life calm and serenity, it allows us to taste its pure and peaceful joys; when this is not the case, all other pleasures are poisoned.

The end point of our life's journey is death, the limit of our aspirations, and if it fills us with horror, then is it possible to take at least one single step without trembling as if in a fever?

The remedy used by ignorant people is not to think about it at all. But what animal stupidity is needed to possess such blindness! This is the only way to bridle the donkey by the tail.

Take a better look at what surrounds you, turn to your personal experience. If we proceed from the natural course of things, then you have been living for a long time thanks to the special blessing of heaven. You have exceeded the normal lifespan of a human being. And so that you can be convinced of this, count how many of your acquaintances died before your age, and you will see that there are many more of them than those who lived to reach your age. Moreover, compile a list of those who have adorned their lives with glory, and I will bet that there will be significantly more on it who died before the age of thirty-five than who crossed this threshold. Reason and piety prescribe there that the life of Christ should be considered a model of human life; but it ended for him when he was thirty-three years old. The greatest among men, this time just a man - I mean Alexander - died at the same age.

And what tricks does death have at its disposal to take us by surprise!

But does it matter, you tell me, how it happens to us? Just not to suffer! I am of the same opinion, and whatever way might be presented to me to hide from the raining blows, even under the skin of a calf, I am not such as to refuse it. I am satisfied with absolutely everything, as long as I feel at peace. And I will choose for myself the best share of all that will be provided to me, no matter how little honorable and modest it may be, in your opinion.

But since it is impossible to escape from it, for it equally overtakes the fugitive, whether he is a rogue or an honest person, ... let us learn to meet it with our breasts and engage in single combat with it. And, in order to take away her main trump card, we will choose the path directly opposite to the usual one. Let's deprive it of its mystery, take a closer look at it, get used to it, thinking about it more often than about anything else. Let us everywhere and always evoke her image in ourselves and, moreover, in all possible guises. If a horse stumbles under us, if a tile falls from the roof, if we prick ourselves on a pin, we will repeat to ourselves every time: “What if this is death itself?” Thanks to this, we will become stronger and more resilient.

It is unknown where death awaits us; so let us expect her everywhere. To think about death is to think about freedom. He who has learned to die has forgotten how to be a slave. The willingness to die frees us from all submission and coercion. And there is no evil in life for someone who has realized that losing life is not evil.

He who teaches people to die teaches them to live.

I find it much more difficult to resolve to die when I am healthy than when I have a fever. After all, the leap from being-vegetation to non-existence is less painful than from being-joy and prosperity to being-sorrow and torment.

What nonsense it is to be upset about moving to a place where we will be freed from any kind of grief!

Just as our birth brought for us the birth of everything around us, so our death will be the death of everything around us. Therefore, it is just as absurd to mourn that in a hundred years we will not be alive, as that we did not live a hundred years before. The death of one is the beginning of the life of another. We cried in exactly the same way, it cost us the same amount of effort to enter this life, and in the same way, entering it, we tore off our previous shell.

Something that happens only once cannot be painful.

On the day you are born, you begin to live as much as you begin to die.

If you have known the joys of life, you have had time to get enough of them; so walk with joy in your heart.

If you failed to use it, if it was stingy for you, what do you care if you lost it, what use is it to you?

Life in itself is neither good nor evil: it is a container of both good and evil, depending on what you yourself have turned it into. No matter how long you live, you cannot shorten the time during which you will awaken dead.

What do you care about it - both when you died and when you are alive? When you are alive - because you exist; when you died - because you no longer exist.

Don’t you know that after true death there will be no second you who could, alive, mourn you, who died, standing over the one lying down.

It is not very smart to condemn something that you have not experienced, either on yourself or on others.

Think carefully about what is called eternal life, and you will understand how much more painful and unbearable it was for man than the one that I gave him.

In order to instill in you the moderation that I demand of you, namely, so that you do not turn away from life and at the same time do not run away from death, I made both of them half sweet and half sorrowful.

That philosophizing means learning to die

Thank you for downloading the book from the free electronic library http://filosoff.org/ Enjoy reading! Montaigne Michel About the fact that philosophizing means learning to die, Cicero says that philosophizing is nothing more than preparing oneself for death. And this is all the more true, because research and reflection draw our soul beyond the boundaries of our mortal self, tear it away from the body, and this is a kind of anticipation and semblance of death; in short, all the wisdom and all the reasoning in our world ultimately comes down to teaching us not to be afraid of death. And in fact, either our mind laughs at us, or, if this is not so, it should strive only for one single goal, namely, to ensure that we satisfy our desires, and all its activities should be aimed only at give us the opportunity to do good and live for our own pleasure, as stated in the Holy Scriptures. Everyone in this world is firmly convinced that our ultimate goal is pleasure, and the debate is only about how to achieve it; the opposite opinion would be immediately rejected, for who would listen to a person who claims that the goal of our efforts is our misfortunes and suffering? The disagreements between philosophical schools in this case are purely verbal. Transcurramus sollertissimas nugas. There is more stubbornness and bickering over trifles here than would befit people of such an exalted calling. However, no matter who a person undertakes to portray, he always plays himself at the same time. Whatever they say, even in virtue itself the ultimate goal is pleasure. I like to tease the ears of those who really don't like it with this word. And when it does denote the highest degree of pleasure and complete satisfaction, such pleasure depends more on virtue than on anything else. Becoming more alive, sharp, strong and courageous, such pleasure only becomes sweeter. And we should rather designate it with the softer, sweeter and more natural word “pleasure”, rather than with the word “lust”, as it is often called. As for this baser pleasure, if it deserves this beautiful name at all, it is only by way of rivalry, and not by right. I find that this kind of pleasure, even more than virtue, is associated with troubles and deprivations of all kinds. Not only is it fleeting, unsteady and transient, it also has its own vigils, and its fasts, and its hardships, and sweat, and blood; moreover, it is associated with special, extremely painful and the most varied suffering, and then - satiety, so painful that it can be equated to punishment. We are deeply mistaken in believing that these difficulties and obstacles also intensify pleasure and give it a special spice, just as it happens in nature, where opposites, colliding, pour new life into each other; but we fall into no less error when, moving on to virtue, we say that the difficulties and adversities associated with it turn it into a burden for us, make it something infinitely harsh and inaccessible, for there is much more here than in comparison with the above-mentioned pleasure , they ennoble, sharpen and intensify the divine and perfect pleasure which virtue bestows upon us. Truly unworthy of communion with virtue is the one who puts on the scales the sacrifices that it requires of us and the fruits it bears, comparing their weight; such a person does not imagine either the benefits of virtue or all its charm. If someone claims that the achievement of virtue is a painful and difficult matter and that only its possession is pleasant, it is the same as if he said that it is always unpleasant. Does man have such means by which anyone has at least once achieved complete possession of it? The most perfect among us considered themselves happy even when they had the opportunity to achieve it, to get even a little closer to it, without the hope of ever possessing it. But those who say this are mistaken: after all, the pursuit of all the pleasures known to us in itself gives us a pleasant feeling. The desire itself gives rise to the desired image in us, but it contains a good share of what our actions should lead to, and the idea of ​​a thing is one with its image in its essence. The bliss and happiness with which virtue shines fill with a bright radiance everything that has to do with it, from the threshold to its last limit. And one of its main benefits is contempt for death; it gives our life calm and serenity, it allows us to taste its pure and peaceful joys; when this is not the case, all other pleasures are poisoned. That is why all philosophies meet and converge at this point. And although they unanimously command us to despise suffering, poverty and other adversities to which human life is subject, yet this should not be our primary concern, as because these adversities are no longer so inevitable (most people live their lives without experiencing poverty, and some - not even knowing what physical suffering and illness are, such as, for example, the musician Xenophilus, who died at the age of one hundred and six years and enjoyed excellent health until his death, and because, at worst, when we We wish, we can resort to the help of death, which will put a limit to our earthly existence and end our ordeals. But as for death, it is inevitable: Omnes eodem cogimur, omnium Versatur gurna, serius ocius Sors exitura et nos in aeternum Exitium impositura cymbae. From which it follows that if it instills fear in us, then this is an eternal source of our torment, which cannot be alleviated. She creeps up on us from everywhere. We can turn around in all directions as much as we like, as we do in suspicious places: quae quasi saxum Tantalo semper impendet. Our parliaments often send criminals to carry out their death sentence to the very place where the crime was committed. Come with them along the way to the most luxurious houses, treat them there with the most exquisite dishes and drinks, non Siculae dares Dulcem elaborabunt saporem, Non avium cytharaeque cantus Somnum reducent; Do you think that they will be able to experience pleasure from this and that the final goal of their journey, which is always before their eyes, will not take away their taste for all this luxury, and it will not fade for them? Audit ier, numeratque dies, epatique viarum Metiur viam.torquetur peste futura. The end point of our life's journey is death, the limit of our aspirations, and if it fills us with horror, then is it possible to take even one single step without trembling as if in a fever? The remedy used by ignorant people is not to think about it at all. But what animal stupidity is needed to possess such blindness! This is the only way to bridle the donkey by the tail. Qui capite ipse suo instituit vestigia retro, - and it is not surprising that such people often fall into a trap. They are afraid to call death by name, and most of them, when someone pronounces this word, cross themselves in the same way as when mentioning the devil. And since it is necessary to mention death in a will, do not expect them to think of making one before the doctor pronounces his last sentence on them; and God alone knows what state their mental faculties are in when, tormented by mortal torment and fear, they finally begin to cook it. Since the syllable that meant “death” in the language of the Romans was too harsh on their ears, and they heard something ominous in its sound, they learned to either avoid it altogether or replace it with paraphrases. Instead of saying “he died,” they said “he ceased to live” or “he became obsolete.” Since life is mentioned here, even if it is completed, this brought them a certain consolation. We borrowed ours from here: “the late lord the name of the rivers.” On occasion, as they say, words are worth more than money. I was born between eleven o'clock and midnight, on the last day of February one thousand five hundred and thirty-three according to our current chronology, that is, considering January to be the beginning of the year." Two weeks ago the thirty-ninth year of my life ended, and I should live at least , as much more. It would be reckless, however, to refrain from thinking about such a distant thing, it would seem. In fact, both old and young alike go to the grave. Everyone passes away from life in no different way, as if he had just entered into it. Add here that there is no such decrepit old man who, remembering Methuselah, would not expect to live another twenty years. But, pathetic fool - for what else are you! - who set the period of your life? You are based on doctors' chatter. Take a better look at what surrounds you, turn to your personal experience. If we proceed from the natural course of things, then you have been living for a long time thanks to the special favor of heaven. You have exceeded the usual period of human life. And so that you can be convinced of this, count how many of your acquaintances died before your age, and you will see that there are many more of them than those who lived to reach your age. Moreover, compile a list of those who have adorned their lives with glory, and I will bet that there will be significantly more on it who died before the age of thirty-five than who crossed this threshold. Reason and piety command us to regard the life of Christ as the model of human life; but it ended for him when he was thirty-three years old. The greatest among men, this time just a man - I mean Alexander - died at the same age. And what tricks does death have at its disposal to take us by surprise! Quid quisque vitet, nunquam homini satis Cautum est in horas. I will not talk about fevers and pneumonia. But who would have thought that the Duke of Brittany would be crushed in the crowd, as happened when Pope Clement, my neighbor, entered Lyon? Have we not seen how one of our kings was killed while taking part in the general fun? And didn’t one of his ancestors die, wounded by a boar? Aeschylus, who was predicted to die crushed by a collapsing roof, could take as many precautions as he wanted; all of them turned out to be useless, for he was struck to death by the shell of a turtle that slipped out of the claws of the eagle that was carrying it away. So-and-so died by choking on a grape seed; so-and-so emperor