12,99 €
An essential companion to the most relevant works of Michel de Montaigne
Essays: The Philosophy Classic delivers a carefully curated collection of thought-provoking works by sixteenth-century thinker Michel De Montaigne. Exploring topics as diverse as politics, poetry, love, friendship and the purpose of philosophy, this latest entry in the celebrated Capstone Classics series is accessible and intuitively organized.
Follow the thoughts of the person who created the essay genre in literature as he expresses his philosophy, interests, and learning. Throughout, you’ll be guided by an expansive introduction by leading Montaigne scholar Philippe Desan and the comments of series editor Tom Butler-Bowdon, placing the work of Montaigne in its historical and philosophical context.
You’ll also find:
An invaluable resource for anyone interested in the insightful and illuminating work of one of the most enduring thinkers of the 16th-century, Essays: The Philosophy Classic is an essential addition to the libraries of philosophers, historians, and laypeople seeking an eye-opening and fascinating exploration of life itself.
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Seitenzahl: 1065
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
AN INTRODUCTION
THE ESSAYS
PERSONAL OVER ABSTRACT
MY WORLD, NOT
THE
WORLD
MONTAIGNE THE PHILOSOPHER
MONTAIGNE THE SOCIAL THINKER
MONTAIGNE THE POLITICAL ACTOR
ON TIME AND HISTORY
THE MONTAIGNE METHOD
BIRTH OF THE MODERN, SKEPTICAL SELF
THE NECESSITY OF DOUBT
CONCLUSION
NOTE ON THE TRANSLATION
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE – TIMELINE
GUIDE TO THE CHAPTERS
BOOK I
BOOK II
BOOK III
ABOUT PHILIPPE DESAN
ABOUT TOM BUTLER-BOWDON
TO THE READER
BOOK I
8 ON IDLENESS
9 ON LIARS
14 THAT THE WAY WE SEE GOOD AND EVIL DEPENDS ON THE OPINION WE HAVE OF THEM
20 TO STUDY PHILOSOPHY IS TO LEARN HOW TO DIE
21 ON THE POWER OF IMAGINATION
23 ON CUSTOM, AND THAT WE SHOULD NOT EASILY CHANGE AN ESTABLISHED LAW
26 ON THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN
28 ON FRIENDSHIP
30 ON MODERATION
31 ON CANNIBALS
39 ON SOLITUDE
BOOK II
1 ON THE INCONSTANCY OF OUR ACTIONS
6 USE MAKES PERFECT
10 ON BOOKS
11 ON CRUELTY
18 ON GIVING THE LIE
30 ON A MONSTROUS CHILD
35 ON THREE GOOD WOMEN
BOOK III
1 ON PROFIT AND HONESTY
2 ON REPENTANCE
5 ON SOME VERSES OF VIRGIL
6 ON COACHES
8 ON THE ART OF CONVERSATION
9 ON VANITY
13 ON EXPERIENCE
END USER LICENSE AGREEMENT
Cover
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
An Introduction
Guide to the Chapters
About Philippe Desan
To the Reader
Begin Reading
End User License Agreement
ii
iii
v
vi
viii
ix
x
xi
xii
xiii
xiv
xv
xvi
xvii
xviii
xix
xx
xxi
xxii
xxiii
xxiv
xxv
xxvi
xxvii
xxviii
xxix
xxx
xxxi
xxxii
xxxiii
xxxiv
xxxv
xxxvi
xxxvii
xxxix
xliii
1
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
Also available in the same series:
Beyond Good and Evil: The Philosophy Classic
by Friedrich Nietzsche (ISBN: 978-0-857-08848-2)
Meditations: The Philosophy Classic
by Marcus Aurelius (ISBN 978-0-857-08846-8)
On the Origin of Species: The Science Classic
by Charles Darwin (ISBN: 978-0-857-08847-5)
Tao Te Ching: The Ancient Classic
by Lao Tzu (ISBN: 978-0-857-08311-1)
The Art of War: The Ancient Classic
by Sun Tzu (ISBN: 978-0-857-08009-7)
The Game of Life and How to Play It: The Self-Help Classic
by Florence Scovel Shinn (ISBN: 978-0-857-08840-6)
The Interpretation of Dreams: The Psychology Classic
by Sigmund Freud (ISBN: 978-0-857-08844-4)
The Prince: The Original Classic
by Niccolò Machiavelli (ISBN: 978-0-857-08078-3)
The Republic: The Influential Classic
by Plato (ISBN: 978-0-857-08313-5)
The Science of Getting Rich: The Original Classic
by Wallace Wattles (ISBN: 978-0-857-08008-0)
The Wealth of Nations: The Economics Classic
by Adam Smith (ISBN: 978-0-857-08077-6)
Think and Grow Rich: The Original Classic
by Napoleon Hill (ISBN: 978-1-906-46559-9)
The Prophet: The Spiritual Classic
by Kahlil Gibran (ISBN: 978–0–857–08855-0)
Utopia: The Influential Classic
by Thomas More (ISBN: 978-1-119-75438-1)
The Communist Manifesto: The Political Classic
by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels (ISBN: 978-0-857-08876-5)
Letters from a Stoic: The Ancient Classic
by Seneca (ISBN: 978-1-119-75135-9)
A Room of One's Own: The Feminist Classic
by Virginia Woolf (ISBN: 978-0-857-08882-6)
Twelve Years a Slave: The Black History Classic
by Solomon Northup (ISBN: 978-0-857-08906-9)
Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass: The Black History Classic
by Frederick Douglass (ISBN: 978-0-857-08910-6)
The Interesting Narrative of Olaudah Equiano: The Black History Classic
by Olaudah Equiano (ISBN: 978-0-857-08913-7)
Thus Spoke Zarathustra: The Philosophy Classic
by Friedrich Nietzsche (ISBN: 978-0-857-08930-4)
MICHEL DE MONTAIGNE
With an Introduction by
PHILIPPE DESAN
This edition first published 2022Introduction copyright © 2022 Philippe Desan
This edition of Essays is based on the English translation of 1685 by Charles Cotton, edited by William Carew Hazlitt in 1877, which is in the public domain.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except as permitted by law. Advice on how to obtain permission to reuse material from this title is available at http://www.wiley.com/go/permissions.
Registered officeJohn Wiley & Sons Ltd, The Atrium, Southern Gate, Chichester, West Sussex, PO19 8SQ, United Kingdom
Editorial OfficeJohn Wiley & Sons Ltd, The Atrium, Southern Gate, Chichester, West Sussex, PO19 8SQ, United Kingdom
For details of our global editorial offices, customer services, and more information about Wiley products visit us at www.wiley.com.
Wiley also publishes its books in a variety of electronic formats and by print-on-demand. Some content that appears in standard print versions of this book may not be available in other formats.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book are trade names, service marks, trademarks or registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publisher is not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book.
Limit of Liability/Disclaimer of WarrantyWhile the publisher and authors have used their best efforts in preparing this work, they make no representations or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this work and specifically disclaim all warranties, including without limitation any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a particular purpose. No warranty may be created or extended by sales representatives, written sales materials or promotional statements for this work. The fact that an organization, website, or product is referred to in this work as a citation and/or potential source of further information does not mean that the publisher and authors endorse the information or services the organization, website, or product may provide or recommendations it may make. This work is sold with the understanding that the publisher is not engaged in rendering professional services. The advice and strategies contained herein may not be suitable for your situation. You should consult with a specialist where appropriate. Further, readers should be aware that websites listed in this work may have changed or disappeared between when this work was written and when it is read. Neither the publisher nor authors shall be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damages, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, or other damages.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is Available:
ISBN 9780857089335 (hardback)ISBN 9780857089342 (ePub)ISBN 9780857089359 (ePDF)
Cover Design: Wiley
Michel de Montaigne, c. 1590, anonymous artist
BY PHILIPPE DESAN
Michel de Montaigne was born in 1533.
His father had high ambitions for his son and made certain he received the best education possible at the College de Guyenne in Bordeaux. The young Michel excelled at Latin and was an avid reader of the ancients. His favorite readings were Plutarch and Seneca, with a particular interest in past historians. Later, his father bought him a public charge so that Michel could enter the Parlement of Bordeaux (judicial Court of Appeal) as a young magistrate. However, political and religious tensions were so extreme in the southwest of France of the 1560s that, unable to adjust to the intricacies of local politics, Montaigne eventually abandoned his public roles.
After the death of his father in 1569, Montaigne retired as a gentleman on his seigneurie (feudal lands) with the intention of living “nobly”. His political patrons, the Foix family, arranged for him to be knighted in the highly coveted Order of Saint Michael (at the time the highest honor for a nobleman in France). This “proof” of his nobility represented quite an accomplishment for someone whose ancestors were merely rich merchants and had become bourgeois of the city of Bordeaux, thanks to the commerce of wine and salt fish.
Because of his new noble aspirations, Michel abandoned his patronymic name of Eyquem and adopted the name of the noble house – Montaigne – purchased by his grandfather, Ramon Eyquem, in 1477. He was henceforth known as “Lord Michel de Montaigne, Knight of the noble Order of St Michael, and one of the Gentlemen in Ordinary of the French King's Chamber”.
In 1580, Montaigne published in Bordeaux a book unique in its title: Essays. A literary genre was born. In a time when most books were about great people or events, or works of academic theology or philosophy, the author tells the reader that his only desire is to show himself “familiar and private”. He denies any intention of glory for himself or benefit to his reader:
“Had my intention been to forestall and purchase the world's opinion and favor, I would surely have adorned myself more quaintly, or kept a more grave or solemn march.”
In his opening message “To the Reader”, he declares his will to paint himself “in my simple, natural, and ordinary garb, without study or artifice, for it was myself I had to paint.” He ends the note by saying, “Thus, reader, I am myself the subject of my book; it is not worth your while to take up your time longer with such a frivolous matter.”
We must take these declarations of humility with a grain of salt, and indeed they may simply have been a literary strategy for the author of a work categorized as a “novelty” by its publisher – an author who, after all, was not then famous, and who had apparently not accomplished anything worth writing about. It is telling that, after a few editions of the Essays, and after he had become much better known, Montaigne would never modify this modest-sounding Preface to the reader.
Montaigne started writing his first essays (all very short) in 1571, when he was in his late thirties. Over the next 20 years, until his death in 1592, he would rewrite and republish the Essays several times. However, it would be false to believe that Montaigne was only a writer. He had diplomatic and political aspirations, and the literary aspect of his career always came after his political and public life, at least until he became very sick (kidney stones) after 1590.
In 1581, Montaigne became mayor of Bordeaux, the fifth-largest city in France at this time. In 1582, his publisher took advantage of his new political visibility to publish a second edition of the Essays. In 1588, with his growing notoriety, Montaigne published a third edition with copious additions and even added a third book with 13 new chapters. He was now published in Paris by one of the most successful publishers and book dealers of his time: Abel L'Angelier. Until his death, Montaigne would continue adding text in the margins of his copy of this Parisian edition.
There is a habit among modern editors of the Essays to segment Montaigne's text in three layers, often signaled by A, B, and C. These correspond to three different editions (1580, 1588, and the posthumous edition of 1595). The text of the first edition (1580) represents approximately 44 percent of the complete Essays. The additions between 1580 and 1588 (with the third book added) amount to another 33 percent of the total text, and the marginal manuscript additions written between 1588 and his death (published in the first posthumous edition of 1595 by Marie de Gournay) make up another 23 percent of a complete modern edition of the Essays.
However, the book was never intended to be read with these layers in mind. Such editorial artifice might help the modern reader to identify contradictions over time and across editions, but it also creates the impression of an evolution of the text which was never intended by Montaigne. As he pointed out:
“I am grown older by a great many years since my first publications, which were in the year 1580; but I very much doubt whether I am grown an inch the wiser. I now, and I anon, are two several persons; but whether better, I cannot determine” (Book III, Chapter 9).
The Essays resembles a patchwork of personal reflections which all tend toward a single goal: to live better in the present and to prepare for death. These considerations offer a point of departure for the modern reader's assessment of his or her own life. It is indeed a book in which the “competent reader” (Book I, Chapter 23) must invest themselves in order to benefit personally and, in turn, produce their own judgments. In brief, one does not read Montaigne, one practices Montaigne.
For modern readers, an important question endures while reading the Essays: how does one systematize and synthesize the thought of an author who did not claim to write anything other than essays – literally “attempts” – bound to never quite succeed? The very form of the essay presupposes its failure, for otherwise it would no longer be an essay. But in the case of Montaigne, the quest is always more interesting and beneficial than the end.
Thinkers and philosophers are meant to create systems, not essays! Yet Montaigne elaborated a philosophy of life without precepts, mottos, or systems. His thought claims to be amorphous, or better, multisided (which does not mean powerless). Whereas Descartes and all Western thought, from the seventeenth century on, sought to develop philosophies of content, Montaigne, on the contrary, endeavored to think in terms of the form itself, or rather many different forms of thought, knowledge, and human experience. For him, these forms can only be apprehended in their relation to other thoughts, other cultures, other possible worlds (Christopher Columbus had recently “discovered” a New World).
Montaigne's true originality is to think of form itself as an organizing principle of all knowledge. All is form – or rather forms – since diversity and variety are inherent to the human condition. For example, he argues that what matters is not what is said but how we say it. Things are a matter of opinion ruled by subjectivity. He concludes his first edition of the Essays with a statement that recaps what is essential in the book:
“And there never were, in the world, two opinions alike, no more than two hairs, or two grains: their most universal quality is diversity” (Book II, Chapter 37).
For Montaigne, variety is the driving principle of humanity and its history. From the books of the ancients to the worldview of cannibals in the New World, we see the complexity of human thought and practice.
Essays, 1588 edition
Montaigne makes the conscious decision to describe the world in its multifaceted representations rather than seek to show some prescriptive overlying order. The world is always his world, nothing more. Judgment cannot be generalized or imposed on others. For this reason, civilizations must be understood on their own terms and should not be judged according to their “advancements” in relation to other civilizations. On this point, Montaigne is very critical of the conquest of the New World and its accompanying moral discourse. He prefers to imagine himself on the other side of what he observes, so that he can understand fully what it feels like and means to be different.
The more he looks at customs around the world, the more he doubts that humans can be generalized into a single essence. He excels at describing his own existence (with its particular experiences) in relation to other existences and develops his method of distingo: understanding oneself first, one can begin to understand others. This interactionist principle of human existence defines Montaigne's writing – and it is an approach we should take seriously, today more than ever.
Starting from a materialist perspective (the existential conditions observable throughout the world and universe), Montaigne realizes that the body is the foundation for all knowledge, and that the mind itself is inseparable from the body:
“Is it not a ridiculous attempt for us to forge for those to whom, by our own confession, our knowledge is not able to attain, another body, and to lend a false form of our own invention; as is manifest in this motion of the planets; to which, seeing our wits cannot possibly arrive, nor conceive their natural conduct, we lend them material, heavy, and substantial springs of our own by which to move…” (Book II, Chapter 12).
Human experience has limits, which is where the mind comes in. In this crucial moment – one that defines “modernity” – knowledge thus depends on both the experiences of the body and the conceptualizations of the mind. They cannot be separated. However, epistemologically, this harmony between what Descartes will call “common sense” (reason) and the senses does not last long. In the seventeenth century they are separated to create modern philosophy, which in its abstractions relegates the senses and the body to “noise”.
For Montaigne, reason and imagination are both equal in terms of producing new knowledge. Like the oscillations of the world and the universe, “the body and soul are in perpetual moving and action” (II, 37). This perpetual motion defines life itself. Montaigne's philosophy is movement since there can be no knowledge outside the human body. We could argue that Montaigne is a wanderer of writing: “my style and my wit wander at the same rate” (III, 9). The wandering body never allows itself to be imprisoned in common places; it constantly flees forward. Montaigne is always elsewhere; we rarely find him where he tells us he is going. From this understanding, all knowledge becomes relative insofar as it depends on bodily experiences that will sometimes adapt to the mind, and at other times dominate the mind.
Montaigne acknowledges that the mind and the body often assert their monstrosity in remarkable ways (the religious wars of his time, for example), but this is an evil that he deems worthy of consideration and reflection. Theory and action are for him inseparable. As he puts it, “my fancy does not go by itself, as when my legs move it” (III, 3). All ideas require action. The mind may explore the world in all its shapes and forms, but personal experiences validate the ideas that we form. This journey through the meanders of thought – a thought which can only be understood in its relation to different thoughts – leads Montaigne into an analysis of himself, a process we call introspection. While he lays himself open to the many contradictions of his experience, he chooses not to suppress them from his book.
Introspection and reflections about the self only work because Montaigne establishes “commerces” with others, principally his friend who passed away (Étienne de la Boétie), notable women in his circle such as Diane de Foix, and books (ancient philosophers, whom he copiously references and quotes). And yet, Montaigne would not really become the Montaigne we know and appreciate today, i.e. the observer of cultural differences and the founder of anthropology (a discipline that is not prescriptive, but simply tries to describe human variation), until he finally accepted (after 1585) to content himself with “reporting” human behaviors in all their contradictions – rather than looking for a common denominator in them.
“Others form man; I only report him: and represent a particular one, ill fashioned enough, and whom, if I had to model him anew, I should certainly make something else than what he is but that's past recalling” (III, 2).
Montaigne would soon abandon any attempt to find the “human condition” (his term), and therefore a possible unity or an essence of the human race, in order to concentrate on a descriptive anthropology. Descartes is often presented as the architect of modern philosophy (creating a blueprint of human essence). Montaigne remains an endless surveyor, observer and describer of human customs and mores.
No grand theory, no system is present in the Essays. Over the centuries, critics have generally refused to consider Montaigne a social thinker; he's been pictured as a literary man and “accidental” philosopher, withdrawn in his tower, playing with his cat. And yet, although there is no project of a better society in the Essays, it is possible to identify several constitutive elements of a sociology and an anthropology that we could group under the heading of “social discourse” (one that is often critical of the social organization of his time) in Montaigne's often contradictory statements. This social discourse is manifested in his own political actions as a mayor of Bordeaux and governor of Guyenne. Indeed, Montaigne's two terms as mayor of Bordeaux from 1581 to 1585 allow us to form a more precise idea of his social commitments and his participation in the political debate of his time.
Let us give two examples. Re-elected with difficulty as mayor in 1583, Montaigne turned against the Parlement (his former employer) and denounced abuses such as tax evasion by those who enriched themselves on the backs of the poor. Too many judicial officers were exempt from taxes, and too many relatives of presidents and councilors were declared “noble” and therefore not subject to taxation. In a book of grievances (cahier de doléances) addressed to the king, Montaigne and six members of the Jurade (city council) complained about the fact that “the richest and opulent families of the said city would have been exempt” from these taxes “for the privilege claimed by all the officers of justice and their widowers”. Thus, in the year 1583, Montaigne spoke firmly regarding social justice and openly criticized the ennoblement of members of Parlement and their families. He spoke as a noble himself and seems to have forgotten his own' family's rise in society. The author of the Essays reminded Henry III that the king's justice must be administered free of charge (court actions were expensive) and “to the smallest crowd of the people as possible”. He also endorsed the following statement: “all levies might be imposed equally on everyone, the strong carrying the poor, and suggest that it is very reasonable that those who have greater resources feel the burden more than those who survive only by chance and the sweat of their brows”.
Despite Montaigne's social declarations in favor of justice and equality, many of his contemporaries were quick to point out his failure as mayor of Bordeaux. He did not contradict his critics:
“They say also that my administration passed over without leaving any mark or trace. Good! They moreover accuse my cessation in a time when everybody almost was convicted of doing too much” (III, 10).
Indeed, Montaigne was perceived as a “centrist” at a time when extremes assumed power on both sides (Catholics and Protestants). He preferred negotiation and moderation in a time of coups de force and violence. But the result of a position perceived as indecisive and feeble-minded was isolation. Montaigne could have done more, but the political price would have been higher still.
His service in public life led him to make some negative judgments upon it in the Essays. If the Essays had first been conceived as a means to enter public life, it slowly became a means to remove himself from it. Politics is about winners and losers, and Montaigne never felt comfortable with decisions that would please one camp to the detriment of another. He was even accused of nonchalance and indolence by his detractors:
“All public actions are subject to uncertain and various interpretations; for too many heads judge of them. Some say of this civic employment of mine (and I am willing to say a word or two about it, not that it is worth so much, but to give an account of my manners in such things), that I have behaved myself in it as a man who is too supine and of a languid temperament; and they have some color for what they say. I endeavored to keep my mind and my thoughts in repose” (III, 10).
If Montaigne failed in politics, it was perhaps because he was “too human”. At least that is the way he liked to represent his political career after his two terms as mayor of Bordeaux. His unconditional confidence in men would have led him to be deceived. After all, he valued nobiliary values (honor and keeping his word, for example) and deplored bourgeois values (efficiency and utility). Likewise, his difficulty in thinking of people as aggregates or groups sharing the same ideology (corporatism, or the “orders” – clergy, nobility, others – of the Ancien Régime) turned out to be a disadvantage for someone who only felt comfortable in individual relationships. Montaigne was never a party man, and his personal judgment did not accommodate political platforms or positions supported by what he perceived as unnatural alliances.
Montaigne was ultimately a lone wolf in his political behavior. The Essays enabled him to reflect upon his experiences in public life, and he ultimately chose to highlight the positive side. But he wanted to move on. After 1588 (i.e. in the manuscript additions of a copy of the 1588 edition of his Essays), Montaigne started to emphasize the private aspect of his book and distanced himself from his former public life.
Montaigne wrote his Essays at a time of great social, religious, and political transformation. In the face of this turmoil, he preferred to focus his attention on the present moment, believing it impossible to predict future behaviors and actions. He considered it a waste of time to imagine a better tomorrow, and to focus on the now:
“I do not paint its being. I paint its passage; not a passing from one age to another, or, as the people say, from seven to seven years, but from day to day, from minute to minute, I must accommodate my history to the hour” (III, 2).
Montaigne made a famous declaration on the wars of religion: “It will be much if, a hundred years hence, it be remembered in general that in our times there were civil wars in France” (II, 16). He was obviously wrong, but that is not the gist of his point. He approached history on a very pragmatic level and could even be labelled a “conservative” when it came to social action. His position was always to avoid turmoil in the public sphere and to therefore make do with the social order in place. Liberty was for him a matter of free speech and freedom of conscience but was never followed by a call to arms. That meant peace at any price, even if the benefits fell to reactionaries. However, this conservatism only applied to public life. His book, on the contrary, represented a personal space to express compassion, respect, and appreciation of differences.
Montaigne theorizes his conception of “immediate history” in several places. For him, events might be given historical importance because they are ideologically invested at different times. The present does not yet have the capacity to “transform documents into monuments” (to cite the French historian and philosopher Michel Foucault in The Archaeology of Knowledge), and, for Montaigne, events of his time are purely anecdotal and therefore relegated to an exemplary status. In this sense, Montaigne always remains close to an atomist conception of society and history, rather than looking for great themes or laws that thread through it.
The people, for example, remain an unpredictable entity whose motivations and actions can never be explained in a reasoned way. What is the use of explaining events that respond to other logics, at other times? The social and religious fragmentation of the late Renaissance generated in Montaigne a form of relativism which did not allow any regrouping or organization into rules or laws. We do not learn from the past; it is in this way that the wars of religion can never be invoked in a didactic way. Memory does nothing to help reason.
Let us remind the reader, one last time, that the Essays were written over 20 years. It is therefore normal that political and ideological positions expressed in a specific social and political context would change over time. Montaigne, like many of his contemporaries (Machiavelli for example), is pragmatic when it comes to politics, and his sense of adaptation (not to mention evolution) is reflected in his ability to absorb contradictions within the same book, while claiming that his views do not contradict each other. Montaigne literally puts himself to the test:
“whether it be that I am then another self, or that I take subjects by other circumstances and considerations: so it is that I may peradventure contradict myself, but, as Demades said, I never contradict the truth. Could my soul once take footing, I would not essay but resolve: but it is always learning and making trial” (III, 2).
Montaigne's position towards the Reformation, for example, changed over time, until it became compatible, in the early 1580s, with the current of politics which sought to guarantee civil peace and was therefore ready to grant more freedoms (of conscience and worship) to Protestants. During times as tormented as the civil wars in France, we understand the difficulty of thinking about the social realm in a systematic fashion. Too many counter-examples weaken possible conclusions on political actions and modes of social organization. Moreover, the acceleration of events gives the feeling of a headlong rush. If we are to produce a theory of anything, it is at the daily level – and, in this sense, this is what Montaigne is doing.
Of course, his study of antiquity allowed Montaigne to find a certain stability of example that contemporaneous events did not provide him. But he was fully aware that things were changing fast, and that his world would never be the same – like the world of the cannibals encountering the foreign invaders. Living through the savagery of the religious wars produced a form of skepticism that was far from academic. It also shaped the form of the essay and produced a permanent questioning.
It is true that Montaigne contradicts himself, which makes reading the Essays difficult, and sometimes problematic. The danger with Montaigne is to take him at his word and discover a few pages later that he says the opposite of what he had previously written. An analysis of his declarations organized in themes therefore has its limits. And yet, Montaigne offers personal and social considerations worth meditating on, not as a doctrine or a philosophy, but rather as attempts to seize a problem at a specific time. The Essays work as a laboratory that allows us to identify some essential principles of a model of individual and society that is almost always unrealizable, but nonetheless thinkable. For Montaigne, experimentation prevails over application, and the rules resulting from observation and experience never quite allow us to conceive of a social science, or to pass from theory to practice.
Rather than developing a grand analysis of humankind, Montaigne prefers to describe what he observes on the ground (for example, during his travels through Germany, Switzerland, and Italy) or what has been observed directly and without mediation by others (like the sailor who travelled to the New World and was employed by Montaigne). Thus, his reflections on mores and customs should not be seen as philosophical investigations on an abstract and unattainable human condition. For this reason, we cannot speak of a Montaignian ontology, or philosophy of being.
Montaigne strives to understand his own mores – always in their political, religious, and cultural context – in relation to other cultures, other schools, and other systems of thought. But should we only be amazed at otherness? Is it possible to take an inventory of people around the world and infer fundamental rules? These questions are always present in the Essays. Even a cursory reading makes it clear that Montaigne does not believe in human “essence”. Humans are incredibly varied across cultures, and so the category of “humanity” is problematic. It is safer to just observe singular behaviors and actions.
Until the seventeenth century, resemblance as an organizing principle was enough to create the illusion of a theory of knowledge, of a hidden order which brought together everything that seemed, at first glance, different. The Spanish theologians of the Conquista looked at the Indians of the New World in this way, i.e. as a pretext for the domination of other cultures because they could not find in these societies what the West valued (writing, monuments, private property). This ideological bias is criticized by Montaigne in his essay “On Cannibals”. On the contrary, valuing difference as an enhancement of his own self, Montaigne delights at seeing himself in the eyes of the cannibals.
Because Montaigne is always aware of his own cultural and social environment, he carefully avoids moral judgment; his interest in different cultures and customs is only illustrative of human complexity. He leaves it to others to find an order in the world and its peoples, and the “progress” of civilizations does not interest him very much. As a good observer, Montaigne turns his gaze towards the generic Other (neighbors, foreigners, cannibals) and tries to understand the irreducibility of cultural specificities: “Every nation has particular opinions touching their use, and particular rules and methods in using them” (II, 37). The “empire of custom” (I, 22) makes us confuse the universal qualities of humans with the importance in our own societies of these “qualities”. Being French or German, according to Montaigne, is in fact nothing more than following the customs of these countries. The power of customs even tends to modify human physiology: “You make a German sick if you lay him upon a mattress, as you do an Italian if you lay him on a feather-bed, and a Frenchman, if without curtains or fire. A Spanish stomach cannot hold out to eat as we can, nor ours to drink like the Swiss” (III, 13).
Throughout the Essays, freedom of personal judgment is privileged over society and education; the subject can always understand the world by himself and for himself. This self-sufficiency of the individual, out of its historical reality, also represents a trap for many modern readers of the Essays. In fact, one finds few references to possible political actions in Montaigne's writings; the accent is almost always placed on commenting on the world rather than changing it. Montaigne's trademark is the moment of introspection, withdrawal, and self-sufficiency.
The possibility of a theoretical truth of the world unconsciously conforms with our own bourgeois mentality, precisely because it isolates the subject from its immediate social and political environment. It is true that Montaigne offers a foundation for the liberal ideology that will soon assert itself from the eighteenth century on. Montaigne's doubts and questions about authority (leading to independence of thought and eventually liberty), and the confidence in his own judgment, have been associated with the birth of modern liberalism. A modern self emerges that is distanced from the authorities of the past, enjoying the victory of private judgment over institutions that limit individual freedom. However, this type of ideological appropriation often ignores the biography of Montaigne. He was not a political thinker, and the Essays were conceived in a specific political, religious, and social context.
Other critics have seen in Montaigne an adept of skepticism, but they seem to forget that one is not born a sceptic, one becomes one. Skepticism is not a philosophical choice for Montaigne; it is anchored in the reality of his time and resulted from a slow deterioration in moral values during the second half of the sixteenth century. With Montaigne, it is difficult to speak of skepticism in the singular – as the mere expression of the philosophical doctrine of this name. One should rather speak of “skeptical moments” in the plural. These moments were produced by personal experiences which were first and foremost of a political nature before becoming, eventually, a modus operandi. Indeed, it is difficult not to link philosophy and political experiences in Montaigne's work.
We have thus often confused a philosophical system – Skepticism – with what, in Montaigne's Essays, is essentially an inclination or a posture of the mind in the face of specific negative or dangerous political situations. The Essays are strewn with skeptical conclusions and impressions that are the result of Montaigne and his estate being in the middle of an atmosphere of unrest and terror. Shocked by the events he lived through – from the Saint-Bartholomew's Day massacre in 1572 to the assassination of Henry III in 1588 – it is very difficult to regroup his conflicting reactions and attitudes into a doctrine. One thing is certain: the religious situation of France between 1563 (beginning of the religious wars) and 1592 profoundly influenced the writing of Montaigne's book and nourished his skepticism.
Resistant to models and systems, Montaigne takes pleasure in the fortuitous and contradictory aspect of the multitude of things encountered. He attempts to seize them in the fleeting moment of personal judgment that must be understood within its historical milieu. Judgment is never final, because it expresses a point in time and space, of this man in this world.
Montaigne's biography is filled with these “doubt moments” which, through their repetition, create in the author a skeptical reflex which in time becomes a natural reaction. Yet the reflex has the function of helping him rediscover a moral stability in a time of upheaval – a time when as he famously puts it, “the world eternally turns round” (III, 2).
The various political and religious crises that punctuated the second half of the sixteenth century called into question a morality that was now discredited and obsolete. In short, utility replaced honesty. Montaigne offers an excellent analysis of this moral crisis in “On Profit and Honesty” (III, 1). In this chapter written after 1585, he shows how bourgeois values gradually replaced noble values such as honor, frankness, loyalty, good faith, and moral transparency. Past behaviors no longer exemplified moral models, as personal profit was now established as the only rule of behavior. Montaigne is the witness of this ideological transformation – anchored in historical and economic developments – which sees honor and truth replaced by utility, success, and personal experience. It is perhaps a weaker path “which is a means much more weak and cheap; but truth is so great a thing that we ought not to disdain any mediation that will guide us to it” (III, 13).
The reappraisal of the notion of truth is obviously influenced by Montaigne's personal experiences. They leave him with a feeling of a permanent relativism which no longer allows him to judge anything in a lasting way. In a time when the vicissitudes of religious conflict seemed to govern everything, it makes sense to doubt what education has transmitted to you. In place of eternal values, a new truth has emerged: the truth of those who came out victorious.
Rather than commenting on the political, religious, and social situation of his country, Montaigne takes refuge in personal introspection. It replaces the rhetorical demonstrations of which he was always suspect. Morality is shaped by the military actions of clashing religious forces. Doubt then becomes a natural reflex at a time when all humanist benchmarks are systematically destabilized. The truths of yesterday crumble and the sandy soil upon which philosophy was built suddenly opens. The end of the Renaissance is a yawning abyss that engulfs past practices and knowledge, leaving only the necessity of doubt.
To summarize: The famous “the world eternally turns round” evoked by Montaigne no longer allows man to impose on others received knowledge or to claim possession of universal truths. The skeptical attitude which characterized the end of the Renaissance, and of which Montaigne is one of the best examples, was essentially due to an ideological and moral crisis linked to the experience of the wars of religion. In the second half of the sixteenth century, skepticism cannot be conceived of as a philosophical system; it rather a simple reaction to events – a response to a moral crisis which no longer allowed one to have ready-made answers.
The implication, which was clear to Montaigne, was that the truth could no longer be taught; it had to be discovered by the individual subject. In matters of authority, everything was now up for grabs. Far from being received, truth must now be conceived individually from unique and private experiences. Montaigne was for this reason outside any didactic scheme: “so many interpretations dissipate truth and break it” (III, 13). He further concedes that “example is a vague and universal mirror, and of various reflections” (III, 13) and therefore loses its exemplarity. This is why Montaigne systematically deconstructs models to reduce them to specific cases.
At this time of crisis in political, social, and religious authority, the best reasoning comes from seeing what is in front of our eyes, rather than looking for guidance from previously celebrated universal truths. As Montaigne writes in his chapter on Raimond Sebond:
“I always call reason that appearance or show of discourses which every man devised or forged in himself: that reason, of whose condition there may be a hundred, one contrary to another, about one self same subject: it is an instrument of lead and wax, stretching, pliable, and that may be fitted to all biases and squared to all measures” (II, 12).
Skepticism towards the religious and political situation relegates Montaigne to the role of a passive observer. He reports without judging, at least in a vindictive way. His approach of a “middle path” was aptly called politique (as the term was defined in the 1570s and 1580s), namely a compromise and juste milieu between extreme positions.
In the end, the Essays analyze what can be broadly defined as human nature, the endless process by which people attempt to impose themselves and their opinions upon others through the production of laws, policies, or philosophies. For Montaigne, this recurring battle for “truth” needs to be put into a historical perspective:
“The truth of these days is not that which really is, but what every man persuades another man to believe” (II, 18).
Montaigne's famous motto, “What do I know?” (inscribed above the fireplace in his study), is a question that always needs to be asked, even when others give us ready answers.
In summary, reading him today teaches us that the angle we have defines the world we see. Or, as he wrote: “it does not only import that we see the thing, but how and after what manner we see it” (I, 40).
For this edition we have used Charles Cotton's translation. Cotton (1630– 1687) was considered one of the “most charming” poets of the late seventeenth century. In 1667, he translated the Moral Philosophy of the Stoics by Guillaume Du Vair and, a few years later (1671), Horace by Corneille.
Published in 1685, Cotton's translation of the Essays is dedicated to George Savile, Marquis of Halifax. Almost a century after John Florio's first translation of the Essays in English, Cotton's language reflects the taste of his time. His prose is simple, clear, less flowery, and certainly more exact than that of Florio or other writers of the Renaissance. His translation enjoyed some popularity through the eighteenth century considering the large number of reissues (1693, 1700, 1711, 1738, 1743, 1759, 1760). Close to Montaigne's original language, this translation (which we have modernized slightly, removing some archaic words) remains very readable today. It includes some of Cotton’s remarks and references, along with those of a later editor, William Carew Hazlitt. There are also remarks from the translator of a 1724 French edition, Peter Coste. All these notes are in square brackets, as distinct from the regular brackets used by Montaigne himself.
As a complete edition of the Essays would run to over 1200 pages, most modern editions are selected. We have chosen 11 out of 57 chapters from Book I, 8 out of 37 chapters from Book II, and 7 out of 13 chapters from Book III. Although the unavoidable and best known chapters such as “To Study Philosophy Is to Learn to Die”, “On the Education of Children”, “On Friendship”, “On Cannibals”, “On Books”, “On Repentance”, “On Coaches”, “On Vanity”, and “On Experience” are present in this edition, we have also selected less known chapters which are often kept out of the Montaignian canon but nonetheless seem relevant for the twenty-first-century reader.
Born in 1533, the son of Dordogne landowner Pierre Eyquem, and Antoinette de Louppes. Her family is Christian but descended from Sephardic Jews.
Receives excellent education at the College de Guyenne in Bordeaux. Well-versed in Latin by age 7. In his teens studies at the Universities of Bordeaux and Toulouse.
At age 20, follows his father in becoming a councilor at the Bordeaux parliament, where he meets friend and mentor Étienne de la Boétie. Period working at the court of Charles IX.
1565: marries Françoise de La Chassaigne. The marriage is arranged; she is mentioned a handful of times in the
Essays
.
1568: father dies and he inherits family estate including chateau in Perigord. Works in a library in a circular tower above the estate buildings. Writes: “Miserable, to my mind, is the man who has no place in his house where he can be alone, where he can privately attend to his needs, where he can conceal himself!”
1569: publishes in Paris a French translation of Raymond Sebond's
Theologia Naturalis
.
1570: daughter Toinette is born. Dies three months later.
1571: daughter Léonor is born, the only one of several daughters to survive into adulthood.
1572–4: France is in civil war. Montaigne joins the royalist side and works on its behalf in Bordeaux.
1577: has his first attack of “the stone” – a hereditary kidney disease.
1580: the
Essays
are published. Montaigne presents a copy to Henry III.
1580–81: journeys around Europe, going from one spa to another seeking a cure. Has audience with Pope Gregory XIII. Recalled home when elected (against his will) mayor of Bordeaux, a position previously held by his father.
1582: second edition of the
Essays
published.
1583: heir to the throne Henry de Navarre visits Montaigne and stays in his chateau. Re-elected mayor of Bordeaux.
1588: third edition of the
Essays
published, including the new
Book III
. Arrested and taken to the Bastille as a hostage but released the same day.
1592: Montaigne dies. His wife and Marie de Gournay, a writer and translator who had become close to Montaigne, arrange for the publication of a final 1595 edition of the
Essays
.
1613: first English translation of the
Essays
published, by John Florio.
Château de Montaigne, by Jean-Jérôme Baugean, c. 1800, with Montaigne's tower in the foreground. It still exists as a Monument historique and can be visited.
When Montaigne retired from public life to his famous tower study on his estate, it did not turn out as he expected. Time on his hands did not lead to clarity of thought; rather, it made him more self-obsessed, melancholic, and prone to undisciplined imaginings.
To lie well you need a good memory, which Montaigne distinctly lacks. In fact, his poor memory was a blessing in that he quickly forgot slights and could enjoy books he had read many times before. As humans are a species of word and speech, lying is the greatest vice, Montaigne argues.
Events are not good or bad in their own right, but our experience depends on how we perceive them. Montaigne agrees in principle, but chronic pain from his kidney stones and colic make it hard to live by these principles.
A key part of Stoic philosophy was the premeditation or practicing of death so that it would not take us unawares. One should have perfect equanimity in the face of death or misfortune. Montaigne considers the vanity of humans who busy themselves and take on great projects as if they would live forever.
Mental impressions, ideas, thoughts, and fears have a hold on us, and it is often only by “sorcery” or tricks that we can loosen their power. Montaigne's example is sexual performance; he reveals old wedding-night customs designed to make things go well. Other examples of the power of thought and images include a woman who, having birthed a hairy child, blamed it on having a portrait of John the Baptist above her bed. Montaigne discounts history as being largely the work of the imagination; he is better at observing the present.
The discovery of new worlds and peoples in Montaigne's time, plus the constant turmoil of political events in France and Europe, made him err on the side of custom or “rules of thumb”. What has been around for a long time has survived for good reason. “Novelty” is usually just some individual's idea of how things could change, often with negative social results.
In a chapter dedicated to his friend Diane de Foix (at the time, pregnant) Montaigne is full of quite modern ideas about how to bring up children, including teaching by inspiration rather than strong discipline. By analogy, kings and rulers should also act like a responsible and loving parent, instilling good values among their subjects.
“Friendship” here for Montaigne means bonds established in all kinds of relationships that are about the meeting of two souls (rather than just bodies). His model here is his deep friendship with Etienne de la Boétie, who had been accused of seditionary writings. Their loyalty to each other over time is analogous to a citizen who is loyal to the state.
Whatever pleasures humans find, they take things to excess, thereby making pleasure a vice. Even the study of philosophy, if engaged in too much, will make a person have contempt for religion and accepted laws and customs. “Everything in moderation”, and having respect for others, are a good rule for life.
Montaigne is unusually open-minded for his time on the matter of “natives”. We only think them barbarous because they are so different to us in dress, beliefs, and customs. Western civilization has its own array of enterprises and customs which would look cruel and nonsensical to outsiders. Amid our hubris, we would do well to remember that the greatest “art” in the universe is nature itself.
Wherever we go, we take ourselves along. Montaigne sought freedom of mind and tranquility in his tower study, but found he was a prisoner of wandering, unhelpful thoughts. We do not need physical solitude as monks and nuns seek, but to be in the world and yet live with some level of detachment.
Humans are full of contradictions, and mostly drift along with the flow of life without having a real plan. Our moods and affections change with the weather, and there's as much difference within us, as between individuals. Given that we allow chance to play such a part in our lives, it's no wonder that chance will dominate and take us places we'd rather not go.
Sometimes translated as “On Practice”, the practice in question is not mastering of a skill but preparing for death. Montaigne, like most people, feared death. That was until he was thrown off his horse in an accident and was concussed; from that moment he had more equanimity. Relating the incident leads to a discussion of how much one should talk about oneself. Not too much, he thinks, but never talking of oneself also goes against human nature.