ppropriate form of Stoical virtue is moderation within our sphere,
and a wise indifference, or at most a disinterested curiosity, in
matters which lie beyond that sphere. Let us resign ourselves to life,
such as it is; let us resign ourselves to death; and let the
resignation be cheerful or even gay. To spend ourselves in attempted
reforms of the world, of society, of governments, is vain. The world
will go its own way; it is for us to accept things as they are, to
observe the laws of our country because it is ours, to smile at them
if we please, and to extract our private gains from a view of the
reformers, the enthusiasts, the dogmatists, the credulous, the
combatants; there is one heroism possible for us--the heroism of good
sense. "It is an absolute perfection, and as it were divine," so we
read on the last page of Florio's translation of the _Essais_, "for
a man to know how to enjoy his being loyally. We seek for other
conditions because we understand not the use of ours; and go out of
ourselves, forasmuch as we know not what abiding there is. We may
long enough get upon stilts, for be we upon them, yet must we go with
our legs. And sit we upon the highest throne of the world, yet sit
we upon our own tail. The best and most commendable lives, and best
pleasing me are (in my conceit), those which with order are fitted,
and with decorum are ranged, to the common mould and human model;
but without wonder or extravagancy. Now hath old age need to be handled
more tenderly. Let us recommend it unto that God who is the protector
of health and fountain of all wisdom; but blithe and social." And
with a stanza of Epicurean optimism from Horace the Essay closes.

Such, or somewhat after this fashion, is the doctrine of Montaigne.
It is conveyed to the reader without system, in the most informal
manner, in a series of discourses which seem to wander at their own
will, resembling a bright and easy conversation, vivid with imagery,
enlivened by anecdote and citation, reminiscences from history,
observations of curious manners and customs, offering constantly to
view the person of Montaigne himself in the easiest undress. The style,
although really carefully studied and superintended, has an air of
light facility, hardly interposing between the author and his reader;
the book is of all books the most sociable, a living companion rather
than a book, playful and humorous, amiable and well bred, learned
without pedantry, and wise wi