montaigne essay philosophy

Guide to the classics: Michel de Montaigne’s Essays

Associate Professor in Philosophy, Deakin University

Disclosure statement

Matthew Sharpe is part of an ARC funded project on modern reinventions of the ancient idea of "philosophy as a way of life", in which Montaigne is a central figure.

Deakin University provides funding as a member of The Conversation AU.

View all partners

When Michel de Montaigne retired to his family estate in 1572, aged 38, he tells us that he wanted to write his famous Essays as a distraction for his idle mind . He neither wanted nor expected people beyond his circle of friends to be too interested.

His Essays’ preface almost warns us off:

Reader, you have here an honest book; … in writing it, I have proposed to myself no other than a domestic and private end. I have had no consideration at all either to your service or to my glory … Thus, reader, I myself am the matter of my book: there’s no reason that you should employ your leisure upon so frivolous and vain a subject. Therefore farewell.

The ensuing, free-ranging essays, although steeped in classical poetry, history and philosophy, are unquestionably something new in the history of Western thought. They were almost scandalous for their day.

No one before Montaigne in the Western canon had thought to devote pages to subjects as diverse and seemingly insignificant as “Of Smells”, “Of the Custom of Wearing Clothes”, “Of Posting” (letters, that is), “Of Thumbs” or “Of Sleep” — let alone reflections on the unruliness of the male appendage , a subject which repeatedly concerned him.

French philosopher Jacques Rancière has recently argued that modernism began with the opening up of the mundane, private and ordinary to artistic treatment. Modern art no longer restricts its subject matters to classical myths, biblical tales, the battles and dealings of Princes and prelates.

If Rancière is right, it could be said that Montaigne’s 107 Essays, each between several hundred words and (in one case) several hundred pages, came close to inventing modernism in the late 16th century.

Montaigne frequently apologises for writing so much about himself. He is only a second rate politician and one-time Mayor of Bourdeaux, after all. With an almost Socratic irony , he tells us most about his own habits of writing in the essays titled “Of Presumption”, “Of Giving the Lie”, “Of Vanity”, and “Of Repentance”.

But the message of this latter essay is, quite simply, that non, je ne regrette rien , as a more recent French icon sang:

Were I to live my life over again, I should live it just as I have lived it; I neither complain of the past, nor do I fear the future; and if I am not much deceived, I am the same within that I am without … I have seen the grass, the blossom, and the fruit, and now see the withering; happily, however, because naturally.

Montaigne’s persistence in assembling his extraordinary dossier of stories, arguments, asides and observations on nearly everything under the sun (from how to parley with an enemy to whether women should be so demure in matters of sex , has been celebrated by admirers in nearly every generation.

Within a decade of his death, his Essays had left their mark on Bacon and Shakespeare. He was a hero to the enlighteners Montesquieu and Diderot. Voltaire celebrated Montaigne - a man educated only by his own reading, his father and his childhood tutors – as “the least methodical of all philosophers, but the wisest and most amiable”. Nietzsche claimed that the very existence of Montaigne’s Essays added to the joy of living in this world.

More recently, Sarah Bakewell’s charming engagement with Montaigne, How to Live or a Life of Montaigne in One Question and Twenty Attempts at an Answer (2010) made the best-sellers’ lists. Even today’s initiatives in teaching philosophy in schools can look back to Montaigne (and his “ On the Education of Children ”) as a patron saint or sage .

So what are these Essays, which Montaigne protested were indistinguishable from their author? (“ My book and I go hand in hand together ”).

It’s a good question.

Anyone who tries to read the Essays systematically soon finds themselves overwhelmed by the sheer wealth of examples, anecdotes, digressions and curios Montaigne assembles for our delectation, often without more than the hint of a reason why.

To open the book is to venture into a world in which fortune consistently defies expectations; our senses are as uncertain as our understanding is prone to error; opposites turn out very often to be conjoined (“ the most universal quality is diversity ”); even vice can lead to virtue. Many titles seem to have no direct relation to their contents. Nearly everything our author says in one place is qualified, if not overturned, elsewhere.

Without pretending to untangle all of the knots of this “ book with a wild and desultory plan ”, let me tug here on a couple of Montaigne’s threads to invite and assist new readers to find their own way.

Philosophy (and writing) as a way of life

Some scholars argued that Montaigne began writing his essays as a want-to-be Stoic , hardening himself against the horrors of the French civil and religious wars , and his grief at the loss of his best friend Étienne de La Boétie through dysentery.

Certainly, for Montaigne, as for ancient thinkers led by his favourites, Plutarch and the Roman Stoic Seneca, philosophy was not solely about constructing theoretical systems, writing books and articles. It was what one more recent admirer of Montaigne has called “ a way of life ”.

Montaigne has little time for forms of pedantry that value learning as a means to insulate scholars from the world, rather than opening out onto it. He writes :

Either our reason mocks us or it ought to have no other aim but our contentment.

We are great fools . ‘He has passed over his life in idleness,’ we say: ‘I have done nothing today.’ What? have you not lived? that is not only the fundamental, but the most illustrious of all your occupations.

One feature of the Essays is, accordingly, Montaigne’s fascination with the daily doings of men like Socrates and Cato the Younger ; two of those figures revered amongst the ancients as wise men or “ sages ”.

Their wisdom, he suggests , was chiefly evident in the lives they led (neither wrote a thing). In particular, it was proven by the nobility each showed in facing their deaths. Socrates consented serenely to taking hemlock, having been sentenced unjustly to death by the Athenians. Cato stabbed himself to death after having meditated upon Socrates’ example , in order not to cede to Julius Caesar’s coup d’état .

To achieve such “philosophic” constancy, Montaigne saw, requires a good deal more than book learning . Indeed, everything about our passions and, above all, our imagination , speaks against achieving that perfect tranquillity the classical thinkers saw as the highest philosophical goal.

We discharge our hopes and fears, very often, on the wrong objects, Montaigne notes , in an observation that anticipates the thinking of Freud and modern psychology. Always, these emotions dwell on things we cannot presently change. Sometimes, they inhibit our ability to see and deal in a supple way with the changing demands of life.

Philosophy, in this classical view, involves a retraining of our ways of thinking, seeing and being in the world. Montaigne’s earlier essay “ To philosophise is to learn how to die ” is perhaps the clearest exemplar of his indebtedness to this ancient idea of philosophy.

Yet there is a strong sense in which all of the Essays are a form of what one 20th century author has dubbed “ self-writing ”: an ethical exercise to “strengthen and enlighten” Montaigne’s own judgement, as much as that of we readers:

And though nobody should read me, have I wasted time in entertaining myself so many idle hours in so pleasing and useful thoughts? … I have no more made my book than my book has made me: it is a book consubstantial with the author, of a peculiar design, a parcel of my life …

As for the seeming disorder of the product, and Montaigne’s frequent claims that he is playing the fool , this is arguably one more feature of the Essays that reflects his Socratic irony. Montaigne wants to leave us with some work to do and scope to find our own paths through the labyrinth of his thoughts, or alternatively, to bobble about on their diverting surfaces .

A free-thinking sceptic

Yet Montaigne’s Essays, for all of their classicism and their idiosyncracies, are rightly numbered as one of the founding texts of modern thought . Their author keeps his own prerogatives, even as he bows deferentially before the altars of ancient heroes like Socrates, Cato, Alexander the Great or the Theban general Epaminondas .

There is a good deal of the Christian, Augustinian legacy in Montaigne’s makeup. And of all the philosophers, he most frequently echoes ancient sceptics like Pyrrho or Carneades who argued that we can know almost nothing with certainty. This is especially true concerning the “ultimate questions” the Catholics and Huguenots of Montaigne’s day were bloodily contesting.

Writing in a time of cruel sectarian violence , Montaigne is unconvinced by the ageless claim that having a dogmatic faith is necessary or especially effective in assisting people to love their neighbours :

Between ourselves, I have ever observed supercelestial opinions and subterranean manners to be of singular accord …

This scepticism applies as much to the pagan ideal of a perfected philosophical sage as it does to theological speculations.

Socrates’ constancy before death, Montaigne concludes, was simply too demanding for most people, almost superhuman . As for Cato’s proud suicide, Montaigne takes liberty to doubt whether it was as much the product of Stoic tranquility, as of a singular turn of mind that could take pleasure in such extreme virtue .

Indeed when it comes to his essays “ Of Moderation ” or “ Of Virtue ”, Montaigne quietly breaks the ancient mold. Instead of celebrating the feats of the world’s Catos or Alexanders, here he lists example after example of people moved by their sense of transcendent self-righteousness to acts of murderous or suicidal excess.

Even virtue can become vicious, these essays imply, unless we know how to moderate our own presumptions.

Of cannibals and cruelties

If there is one form of argument Montaigne uses most often, it is the sceptical argument drawing on the disagreement amongst even the wisest authorities.

If human beings could know if, say, the soul was immortal, with or without the body, or dissolved when we die … then the wisest people would all have come to the same conclusions by now, the argument goes. Yet even the “most knowing” authorities disagree about such things, Montaigne delights in showing us .

The existence of such “ an infinite confusion ” of opinions and customs ceases to be the problem, for Montaigne. It points the way to a new kind of solution, and could in fact enlighten us.

Documenting such manifold differences between customs and opinions is, for him, an education in humility :

Manners and opinions contrary to mine do not so much displease as instruct me; nor so much make me proud as they humble me.

His essay “ Of Cannibals ” for instance, presents all of the different aspects of American Indian culture, as known to Montaigne through travellers’ reports then filtering back into Europe. For the most part, he finds these “savages’” society ethically equal, if not far superior, to that of war-torn France’s — a perspective that Voltaire and Rousseau would echo nearly 200 years later.

We are horrified at the prospect of eating our ancestors. Yet Montaigne imagines that from the Indians’ perspective, Western practices of cremating our deceased, or burying their bodies to be devoured by the worms must seem every bit as callous.

And while we are at it, Montaigne adds that consuming people after they are dead seems a good deal less cruel and inhumane than torturing folk we don’t even know are guilty of any crime whilst they are still alive …

A gay and sociable wisdom

“So what is left then?”, the reader might ask, as Montaigne undermines one presumption after another, and piles up exceptions like they had become the only rule.

A very great deal , is the answer. With metaphysics, theology, and the feats of godlike sages all under a “ suspension of judgment ”, we become witnesses as we read the Essays to a key document in the modern revaluation and valorization of everyday life.

There is, for instance, Montaigne’s scandalously demotic habit of interlacing words, stories and actions from his neighbours, the local peasants (and peasant women) with examples from the greats of Christian and pagan history. As he writes :

I have known in my time a hundred artisans, a hundred labourers, wiser and more happy than the rectors of the university, and whom I had much rather have resembled.

By the end of the Essays, Montaigne has begun openly to suggest that, if tranquillity, constancy, bravery, and honour are the goals the wise hold up for us, they can all be seen in much greater abundance amongst the salt of the earth than amongst the rich and famous:

I propose a life ordinary and without lustre: ‘tis all one … To enter a breach, conduct an embassy, govern a people, are actions of renown; to … laugh, sell, pay, love, hate, and gently and justly converse with our own families and with ourselves … not to give our selves the lie, that is rarer, more difficult and less remarkable …

And so we arrive with these last Essays at a sentiment better known today from another philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, the author of A Gay Science (1882) .

Montaigne’s closing essays repeat the avowal that: “ I love a gay and civil wisdom … .” But in contrast to his later Germanic admirer, the music here is less Wagner or Beethoven than it is Mozart (as it were), and Montaigne’s spirit much less agonised than gently serene.

It was Voltaire, again, who said that life is a tragedy for those who feel, and a comedy for those who think. Montaigne adopts and admires the comic perspective . As he writes in “Of Experience”:

It is not of much use to go upon stilts , for, when upon stilts, we must still walk with our legs; and when seated upon the most elevated throne in the world, we are still perched on our own bums.

• Classic literature
• Michel de Montaigne

PhD Scholarship

Senior Lecturer, HRM or People Analytics

Senior Research Fellow - Neuromuscular Disorders and Gait Analysis

Centre Director, Transformative Media Technologies

Postdoctoral Research Fellowship

Montaigne’s Essays : A Humanistic Approach to Fear

• First Online: 18 April 2018

Cite this chapter

• Sergio Starkstein 2  

632 Accesses

Montaigne’s Essays is of major importance for the philosophy of fear. In this work, Montaigne provides narratives of a variety of fears, and in doing so describes a full palette of fear-related emotions, from individual doubts and avoidance, to terror and generalised panic. Montaigne’s analysis and treatment of fear is unique because he is among the first philosophers to openly discuss his own fears and the variety of philosophical therapies he used to subdue them. After employing Stoic and Epicurean remedies, Montaigne found the most useful philosophical therapy in the sceptical Pyrrhonian tradition. Thus, the Essays express an open-minded, particularistic and anti-dogmatic approach to life. Montaigne’s motto ‘What do I know?’ reflects his non-partisan approach and receptiveness to improving his emotional well-being, as well as increasing his knowledge and joy of life by accepting life events as these unfold.

It is fear that I am most afraid of: In harshness it surpasses all other mischances . Michel de Montaigne, Essays (Book I, “On fear”) (Montaigne 2003 )

This is a preview of subscription content, log in via an institution to check access.

Access this chapter

• Get 10 units per month
• Download Article/Chapter or Ebook
• 1 Unit = 1 Article or 1 Chapter
• Cancel anytime
• Available as PDF
• Read on any device
• Instant download
• Own it forever
• Available as EPUB and PDF
• Compact, lightweight edition
• Dispatched in 3 to 5 business days
• Free shipping worldwide - see info
• Durable hardcover edition

Tax calculation will be finalised at checkout

Purchases are for personal use only

Institutional subscriptions

It is difficult to introduce Montaigne as a philosopher, as he did not belong to the ‘establishment’ nor did he want to become a ‘professional’ philosopher. He was a ‘humanist’ in the sense of Petrarch and Erasmus, a man of letters, and a politician. Nevertheless, the Essays is the work of a profound philosopher, one of the most original thinkers of the Renaissance who understood the human soul as few before or after him. Julie Roberts ( 2015 , p. 246) considers the Essays as a “pathographically curative” text, with the effort to examine oneself as one of the main aspects of philosophical therapy. She connects Montaigne’s therapy with Foucault’s “care of the self” (Foucault 1986 ). Rachel Starr ( 2012 , p. 436) considers the Essays as the pinnacle of “humanistic psychotherapy.”

After publishing the first edition in 1580, Montaigne continued adding material, which creates some confusion, as he did not correct his previous concepts even when they were in contradiction with the new ones. The additions from 1580 to 1588 are marked with a “B”, whereas the additions from 1588–1592 made in the 1588 ‘Bordeaux copy’ (first published in 1595) are marked with a “C”. I have used Screech’s translation (Montaigne 2003 ), but also added material from Frame’s translation whenever I considered the concept to be more clearly conveyed (Montaigne 1965 ). Reference to specific essays will be given to by volume and number, and page numbers within specific essays will be referred to by volume, essay, and page number. Letters A, B and C are used, when necessary, to indicate the different editions.

The presence of clearly demarcated philosophical stages in Montaigne’s intellectual evolution has been contested by a number of authors, and is extensively discussed in Bermúdez ( 2015 , pp. 54–61). Frame ( 1955 , pp. 5–7) describes three periods in Montaigne’s philosophical development: the first one (“Stoic period”) extended from 1572 to 1574; the second one (“Sceptical period”) extended from 1575 to 1577, and the final period (“Epicurean period”) extended from 1578 until Montaigne’s death in 1592.

This type of autobiographical writing was not new (Montaigne’s Essays was preceded by Augustine’s Confessions and Petrarch’s Secretum ), but Montaigne’s text is unique in the frankness of personal descriptions, in which a reader of any place and period may be easily reflected.

Fear is a main theme in I.6 “The hour of parley is dangerous”, I.11 “On prognostications”, I.16 “On punishing cowardice”, I.19 “That we should not be deemed happy till after our death”, I.20 “To philosophise is to learn how to die”, I.21 “On the power of imagination”, I.33 “On fleeing from pleasures at the cost of one’s life”, I.39 “On solitude”, and I.57 “On the length of life”.

This sounds anachronistic, but the extrapolation of the Essays into contemporary life is commonly practiced and for good reasons (Lazar and Madden 2015 , pp. 1–2), as fear is one of the most primitive human emotions, the phenomenology in terms of feelings and behaviour has not changed in its conceptual essence, and the main causes of this emotion are perennial, such as the fear of death, poverty, sickness and wars.

Scholar ( 2010 ), remarks that the Essays “haunt its readers” by the free-thinking style of Montaigne’s writings. Montaigne was a scholar, but fiercely anti-dogmatic, anti-authoritarian, and able to make “all questions accessible to his readers” (Scholar 2010 , p. 7).

“When he is threatened with a blow nothing can stop a man closing his eyes, or trembling if you set him on the edge of a precipice…” (A.2.3.388).

“Anyone who is afraid of suffering suffers already of being afraid” (3.13.1243).

The main essays discussing the fear of death are “Constancy” (1.12), “That the taste of good and evil…” (1.14), “That to philosophise is to learn to die” (1.20), “Solitude” (1.39) and “The inconsistency of our own actions” (2.1).

The topic on the futility of premeditation is discussed in-depth in the penultimate essay “On physiognomy” (3.22).

“I am one of those by whom the powerful blows of the imagination are felt most strongly. Everyone is hit by it, but some are bowled over” (A.1.21.109).

“When I contemplate an illness I seize upon it and lodge it within myself” (C.1.21.109).

“Once the pain has gone I am not much depressed by weakness or lassitude. I know of several bodily afflictions which are horrifying even to name but which I fear less than hundreds of current disturbances and distresses of the mind” (C.3.13.1245).

“Then, there is no madness, no raving lunacy, which such agitations do not bring forth” (A.1.8.30).

“Resigned to any outcome whatsoever once the dice have been thrown” (B.2.17.732); and “Few emotions have ever disturbed my sleep, yet even the slightest need to decide anything can disturb it for me” (B.2.17.732).

“In events I act like a man: in the conduct of events, like a boy. The dread of a tumble gives me more anguish than the fall” (B.2.17.733).

“…thank God we have nothing to do with each other” (A.1.24.143).

“I tell those who urge me to take medicine at least to wait until I am well and have got my strength back in order to have the means of resisting the hazardous effects of their potions” (A.1.24.143).

“Can I feel something disintegrating? Do not expect me to waste time having my pulse and urine checked so that anxious prognostics can be drawn from them: I will be in plenty of time to feel the anguish without prolonging things by an anguished fear” (B.3.13.1243).

His father lived to 74 years, a grandfather to 69, and a great-grandfather to almost 80, “none having swallowed any kind of drug” (A.2.37.864).

“How many men have been made ill by the sheer force of imagination? Is it not normal to see men bled, purged and swallowing medicines to cure ills which they feel only in their minds?” (A.2.12.547).

“Why do doctors first work on the confidence of their patient with so many fake promises of a cure if not to allow the action of the imagination to make up for the trickery of their potions? They know that one of the masters of their craft told them in writing that there are men for whom it is enough merely to look at a medicine for it to prove effective” (A.1.21.116). Thus, the trickery of doctors consisted in using medications as strong placebos to cure imaginary illnesses, as well as convincing patients that their drugs were curing an otherwise irreversible condition (Justman 2015 ).

Robert ( 2015 , pp. 721–744) has analysed the subtle way in which Montaigne ridiculed both physicians and patients for engaging in fully unproven expensive treatments.

“… they rob us of feelings and concern for what now is, in order to spend time over what will be – even when we ourselves shall be no more” (B.1.3.11).

“The continual suspicion, which leads a Prince to distrust everyone may torment him strangely” (A.1.24.145).

“So vain and worthless is human wisdom: despite all our projects, counsels and precautions, the outcome remains in the possession of Fortune” (A.1.24.143).

“The longest of my projects are for less than a year; I think only of bringing things to a close; I free myself from all fresh hopes and achievements” (C.2.28.797).

“My old age…deadens within me many of the desires and worries which trouble our lives: worry about the way the world is going; worry about money, honours, erudition, health… and me” (C.2.28.797).

“I am the most ill-disposed toward pain” (C.1.14.69).

“When my condition is bad I cling violently to my illness: I abandon myself to despair and let myself go towards catastrophe” (B.3.9.1072).

“Death is the only guarantor of our freedom, the common and ready cure of our ills” (A.1.14.53). Montaigne acceptance of suicide is not explicitly stated in the text, perhaps due to fear of the Inquisition.

It may also be the case that Montaigne had no firm opinion about the best ‘remedies’ for fear, and left different options open.

“The anxiety to do well…puts the soul on the rack, break it, and make it impotent” (Montaigne 1965 1.10.26, Frame’s translation).

Bakewell states that premeditation did not liberate Montaigne from his fears, but actually served to imprison him (Bakewell 2010 , p. 3).

“Do we ask to be whipped right now…just because it may be that Fortune will, perhaps, make you suffer a whipping some day?” (B.3.12.1189).

“No man has ever prepared to leave the world more simply nor more fully than I have. No one has more completely let go of everything than I try to do” (C.1.20.98) [my italics].

“How many country-folk do I see ignoring poverty; how many yearning for death or meeting it without panic or distress? That man over there who is trenching my garden has, this morning, buried his father or his son” (B.3.12.1178).

This description seems to idealise and romanticise the behaviour of the ‘lower classes’, but this is what Montaigne was contemplating, what he saw in his own estate. Although he cannot know what was going on in the minds of his peasants and he employs a clumsy generalisation I believe that this image can be read as being used to contrast different human responses to fear and to show that fear can be successfully dominated.

Hartle ( 2013 , p. 17) also believes in a more opinionated than a non-judgmental Montaigne, stressing that throughout the Essays Montaigne constantly makes judgments of all sorts. This is certainly true, except for the questions that obsessed Montaigne the most: the fears of sickness poverty and death. When discussing Montaigne’s scepticism in relation to Sextus Empiricus, Bermúdez Vazquez remarks that “philosophical speculation leads only to confusion because of the inevitability of uncertainty. It produces anxiety rather than peace of mind” (p. 17).

“Fear, desire, hope, impel us towards the future; they rob us of feelings and concern for what now is, in order to spend time over what will be – even when we ourselves shall be no more” (B.1.3.11).

This has obvious Buddhist resonances, and may be related to Montaigne’s admiration of Pyrrhonism, which has many affinities with Eastern thought (Beckwith 2015 ). Pyrrho’s main concepts as reported by Sextus Empiricus had been translated into French about 20 years before the first edition of the Essays (see Calhoun 2015 ).

Montaigne’s purported unnoticed way of life was only partially true, since while trying to stay away from the daily nuisance at his chateau, he would eagerly seek the company of the few erudite Montaigne had in esteem to engage in conversation, and more reluctantly, work for the king on political missions.

“The greatest thing in the world is to know how to live to yourself” (A.1.39.272).

This is clarified in a footnote by Screech (Montaigne 2003 ) as “I make a distinction,” a term used in formal debates to reject or modify an opponent’s assertion.

“Life must be its own objective, its own purpose. Its right concern is to rule itself, govern itself, put up with itself” (C.3.12.1191).

The number following the year corresponds to the remark in Philosophical Investigations .

Bakewell, S. (2010). How to live—Or a life of Montaigne in one question and twenty attempts at an answer . Great Britain: Chatto & Windus.

Google Scholar  

Barsky, A. J. (1988). Worried sick: Our troubled quest for wellness . Boston: Little, Brown and Co.

Beckwith, C. I. (2015). Greek Buddha: Pyrrho’s encounter with early Buddhism in Central Asia . Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Book   Google Scholar  

Bermúdez Vázquez, M. (2015). The skepticism of Michel de Montaigne (Vol. 216). Switzerland: Springer International Publishing.

Brockliss, L., & Jones, C. (1977). The medical world of early modern France . Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Calhoun, A. (2015). Montaigne and the lives of the philosophers: Life writing and transversality in the Essais . Newark: University of Delaware Press.

Foucault, M. (1986). The care of the self (H. Hurley, Trans., Vol. 3). New York: Vintage Books.

Frame, D. M. (1955). Montaigne’s discovery of man: The humaization of a humanist . New York: Columbia Unversity Press.

Frame, D. M. (1984). Montaigne: A biography . San Francisco: North Point Press.

Friedrich, H. (1991). Montaigne (D. Eng, Trans., P. Desan, Ed.). Berkeley: University of California Press.

Hartle, A. (2013). Montaigne and the origins of modern philosophy . Evanston: Northwestern University Press.

Justman, S. (2015). Montaigne on medicine: Insights of a 16th-century skeptic. Perspectives in Biology and Medicine, 58 (4), 493–506.

Article   Google Scholar  

Lazar, D., & Madden, P. (2015). After Montaigne (D. Lazar & P. Madden Eds.). Athens, GA: The University of Georgia Press.

Montaigne, M. (1965). The complete essays of Montaigne (D. M. Frame, Trans.). Stanford: Stanford University Press.

Montaigne, M. (2003). The complete essays (M. A. Screech, Trans.). London: Penguin Books.

Robert, J. (2015). Pa/enser bien le corps: Cognitive and curative language in Montaigne’s essais. Journal of Medical Humanities, 36 , 241–250.

Roberts, H. (2009). Medicine and nonsense in French Renaissance moch prescriptions. The Sixteenth Century Journal, 40 (3), 721–744.

Scholar, R. (2010). Montaigne and the art of free-thinking . Oxford: Peter Lang.

Starr, R. (2012). Should we be writing essays instead of articles? A psychotherpist’s reflection on Montaigne’s marvelous invention. Journal of Humanistic Psychology, 52 (4), 423–450.

Wittgenstein, L. (2001). Philosophical investigations (G. E. M. Anscombe, Trans.). Oxford: Blackwell.

Download references

Author information

Authors and affiliations.

University of Western Australia, Fremantle, WA, Australia

Sergio Starkstein

You can also search for this author in PubMed   Google Scholar

Corresponding author

Correspondence to Sergio Starkstein .

Rights and permissions

Reprints and permissions

Copyright information

© 2018 The Author(s)

About this chapter

Starkstein, S. (2018). Montaigne’s Essays : A Humanistic Approach to Fear. In: A Conceptual and Therapeutic Analysis of Fear. Palgrave Macmillan, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-78349-9_4

Download citation

DOI : https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-319-78349-9_4

Published : 18 April 2018

Publisher Name : Palgrave Macmillan, Cham

Print ISBN : 978-3-319-78348-2

Online ISBN : 978-3-319-78349-9

eBook Packages : Religion and Philosophy Philosophy and Religion (R0)

Share this chapter

Anyone you share the following link with will be able to read this content:

Sorry, a shareable link is not currently available for this article.

Provided by the Springer Nature SharedIt content-sharing initiative

• Publish with us

Policies and ethics

• Find a journal
• Track your research

• Architecture and Design
• Asian and Pacific Studies
• Business and Economics
• Classical and Ancient Near Eastern Studies
• Computer Sciences
• Cultural Studies
• Engineering
• General Interest
• Geosciences
• Industrial Chemistry
• Islamic and Middle Eastern Studies
• Jewish Studies
• Library and Information Science, Book Studies
• Life Sciences
• Linguistics and Semiotics
• Literary Studies
• Materials Sciences
• Mathematics
• Social Sciences
• Sports and Recreation
• Theology and Religion
• Publish your article
• The role of authors
• Promoting your article
• Abstracting & indexing
• Publishing Ethics
• Why publish with De Gruyter
• How to publish with De Gruyter
• Our book series
• Our subject areas
• Your digital product at De Gruyter
• Contribute to our reference works
• Product information
• Tools & resources
• Product Information
• Promotional Materials
• Orders and Inquiries
• FAQ for Library Suppliers and Book Sellers
• Repository Policy
• Free access policy
• Open Access agreements
• Database portals
• For Authors
• Customer service
• People + Culture
• Journal Management
• How to join us
• Working at De Gruyter
• Mission & Vision
• De Gruyter Foundation
• De Gruyter Ebound
• Our Responsibility
• Partner publishers

Your purchase has been completed. Your documents are now available to view.

The Complete Essays of Montaigne

• Michel Eyquem Montaigne
• Translated by: Donald M. Frame
• X / Twitter

Please login or register with De Gruyter to order this product.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stanford University Press
• Copyright year: 1958
• Audience: Professional and scholarly;
• Main content: 908
• Published: June 1, 1958
• ISBN: 9780804780773

• Table of Contents
• Random Entry
• Chronological
• Editorial Information
• About the SEP
• Editorial Board
• How to Cite the SEP
• Special Characters
• Advanced Tools
• Support the SEP
• PDFs for SEP Friends
• Make a Donation
• SEPIA for Libraries
• Back to Entry
• Entry Contents
• Entry Bibliography
• Academic Tools
• Friends PDF Preview
• Author and Citation Info
• Back to Top

Notes to Michel de Montaigne

1. Michel de Montaigne, Les Essais , published according to the “Exemplaire de Bordeaux” by Fortunat Strowski, Bordeaux 1906 and 1909; Georg Olms, Hildesheim/ New York, 1981.

2. II 37 F 696 “but only to vary, not to delete”; VS 758c “pour diversifier, non pour ôter”. The first reference, to the English text, is taken from Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Works. Essays, Travel Journal, Letters , translated by Donald M. Frame (noted F in the entry) Leland Stanford Junior University, 1948, renewed 1971 & 1976, Stanford University. The second reference, in French, is the edition by Pierre Villey, 1924, reedited by Victor-Louis Saulnier, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1965 (noted VS in the entry).

3. Chapter II 12: “Apologie de Raymond Sebond”.

4. Chapter I 31: “Des Cannibales”

5. See Screech 1998.

6. I 26, F 136; VS 152a: “suivant l’advis de Platon, qui dict la fermeté, la foy, la sincerité estre la vraye philosophie, les autres sciences et qui visent ailleurs, n’estre que fard.”

7. II 12 VS 540a ; F 489

8. II 12 VS 539a ; F 488

9. F 489: “We do not ask wether Galen said anything worth saying, but whether he said thus or otherwise”; VS II 12 540a: “On ne demande pas si Galen a rien dit qui vaille, mais s’il a dit ainsi ou autrement.”

10. See Alexandre Koyré, Du monde clos à l’univers infini , Paris, Gallimard, 1962.

11. I 26: “De l’institution des enfants”; “Of the Institution of Children”.

12. I,26 F 148; VS 164a.

13. I 1, F 5: “Truly man is a marvelously vain, diverse, and undulating object”; VS 9a. See also II 10 VS 413a.

14. I 26 F 143; VS 160a: “(…) que la philosophie, ce soit, jusques aux gens d’entendement, un nom vain et fantastique, qui se treuve de nul usage et de nul pris.”

15. I 50, F 266; VS 302c: “Tout mouvement nous découvre”.

16. II 16 VS 522c

17. I 25 “Du pedantisme”; “Of pedantry”.

18. I 30, VS 198c: “Calliclez, en Platon, dict l’extremité de la philosophie estre dommageable, et conseille de ne s’y enfoncer outre les bornes du profit ; que, prinse avec moderation, elle est plaisante et commode, mais qu’en fin elle rend un homme sauvage et vicieux, desdaigneux des religions et loix communes…”.

19. I 23 F 100 ; VS 115

20. I 26 F 140; VS 157a: “Il se tire une merveilleuse clarté, pour le jugement humain, de la fréquentation du monde”.

21. I 1 “Par divers moyens on arrive à pareille fin”.

22. I 23 F 96.

23. III 2, F 740; VS 804b: “Les autres forment l’homme, je le recite (…)”.

24. See M. Conche, 1996, chap. 1.

25. I 27, F 160: “It is folly to measure the true and false by our own capacity”.

26. III 8, F 860; VS 928b. “Ce n’est pas à qui mettra dedans, mais à qui fera les plus belles courses”.

27. II 12 F 553 ; VS 601a: “Et nous, et nostre jugement, et toutes choses mortelles, vont coulant et roulant sans cesse. … Nous n’avons aucune communication à l’estre….”

28. III 11, F 959; VS 1031; see also II,12, F 477: “I can see why the Pyrrhonian philosophers cannot express their general conception in any manner of speaking ; for they would need a new language. Ours is wholly formed of affirmative propositions….”

29. III 11, ibid .

30. See I 23, “Of custom, and not easily changing accepted law”, F 93–108.

31. See Entretien avec Mr de Sacy : the attribution of the text to Pascal is controversial. The relation of the text to Montaigne is commented by André Tournon, in La Glose et l’essai , 2001, p. 258.

32. See for ex. II 12 F 517: “Many times (as I sometimes do deliberately), having undertaken as exercise and sport to maintain an opinion contrary to my own, my mind, applying itself and turning in that direction, attaches me to it so firmly that I can no longer find the reason for my former opinion, and I abandon it.”

33. Popkin 1960, 1979, and 2003.

34. III 13 F 1041; VS 1113b: “Pour moy donc, j’ayme la vie et la cultive telle qu’il a pleu à Dieu nous l’octroier.”

35. Hugo Friedrich, Montaigne , Bern, Francke, 1947.

36. Montaigne had previously and rather conventionally blamed Cicero for vanity. See I,40, “Considerations on Cicero”. These attacks have been a commonplace since the quarrel of “ciceronianism”, which Erasmus had revived at the begining of the century.

37. Schmitt 1972.

38. Cicero, De Officiis , III, 4, 20

39. II 12, F 458; VS 509c: “toujours demandant en esmouvant la dispute, jamais l’arrestant, jamais satisfaisant”

40. I 26 F 144: “The surest sign of wisdom is constant cheerfulness”; VS 161c: “La plus expresse marque de la sagesse, c’est une esjouissance constante”.

41. I 23 F 99 ; VS 114a.

42. See Alciat, Cujas, Hotman, Pasquier, etc. See Franklin, Julian H., Jean Bodin and the Sixteenth-Century Revolution in the Methodology of Law and History , New York/London: Columbia Unviersity Press, 1963; A. Tournon, 1983; Z.S. Schiffman, On the Trehshold of Modernity: Relativism in the French Renaissance , Baltimore: John Hopkins U. Press, 1991.

43. P. Villey, 1933, p.326.

44. I 23, F 100; VS 115a: “Et somme, à ma fantaisie, il n’est rien qu’elle ne fasse, ou qu’elle ne puisse…”

45. III 13 F 1008: “It is for habit to give form to our life, just as it pleases; it is all-powerful in that; it is Circe’s drink, which varies our nature as it sees fit.” VS 1080a: “C’est à la coutume de donner forme à notre vie, telle qu’il lui plaît; elle peut tout en cela: c’est le breuvage de Circé, qui diversifie notre nature comme bon lui semble.”

46. I 23 F 100 ; VS 115c: “Les lois de la conscience, que nous disons naître de nature, naissent de la coutume: chacun ayant en vénération interne les opinions et mœurs approuvées et reçues autour de lui.” See also I,31, F 185: “I think there is nothing barbarous and savage in that nation, from what I have been told, except that each man calls barbarism whatever is not his own practice”; VS 205a.

47. Pascal: “Trois degrés d’élévation du pôle renversent toute la jurisprudence; un méridien décide de la vérité…. Vérité au deçà des Pyrénées, erreur au delà” (éd. Brunschvicg 294; éd. Lafuma 60); Montaigne, VS 579a.

48. I 26, F 140; VS 157a: “Nous sommes tous contraints et amoncellez en nous, et avons la veuë racourcie à la longueur de nostre nez.”

49. C. Lévi-Strauss, Histoire de lynx , chap. 18, “en relisant Montaigne”.

50. I 31, F 189; VS 209a: “Je pense qu’il y a plus de barbarie à manger un homme vivant qu’à le manger mort, à deschirer, par tourmens et par geénes, un corps encore plein de sentiment…”

51. I 31, F 189; VS 210a.

52. I 23, F 100: “Whence it comes to pass that what is off the hinges of custom, people believe to be off the hinges of reason: God knows how unreasonnably, most of the time”; VS 116c: “Par où il advient que ce qui est hors des gonds de coutume, on le croit hors des gonds de raison: Dieu sait combien déraisonnablement, le plus souvent.” I,23 F 100: “it is his soul that a wise man should withdraw from the crowd, maintaining its power and freedom freely to make judgements, whilst externally accepting all received forms and fashions”; VS 118a.

53. I 23, F 102: “Whoever wants to get rid of this violent prejudice of custom (…) when he refers things to truth and reason, he will fell his judgment as it were all upset, and nevertheless restored to a much surer status.” VS 117a: “Qui voudra se défaire de ce violent préjudice de la coutume (…) rapportant les choses à la vérité et à la raison, il sentira son jugement comme tout bouleversé, et remis pourtant en un bien plus sûr état.”

54. I 23, F 101; VS 116c: “donner un bon coup de fouet à la bêtise ordinaire de notre jugement”

55. See Pierre Charron, De la sagesse , book II, chap. 2.

56. Francis Bacon, The Major Works, Oxford University Press, 2008, Essays (Dedicatory Epistles to 1597 and 1612 editions), p. 545, 677–678.

57. Id., The Advancement of Learning, II, p. 235.

58. Discours de la Méthode , Gallimard, Pléiade p. 231: “J’employai le reste de ma jeunesse à voyager, à voir des cours et des armées, à fréquenter des gens de diverses humeurs et conditions, à recueillir diverses expériences, à m’éprouver moi-même dans les rencontres que la fortune me proposait, et partout à faire telle réflexion sur les choses qui se présentaient, que j’en pusse tirer quelque profit.”

59. Discours de la Méthode , p. 129: “Il est bon de savoir quelque chose des divers peuples, afin de juger des nôtres plus sainement, et que nous ne pensions pas que tout ce qui est contre nos modes soit ridicule et contre raison, ainsi qu’ont coutume de faire ceux qui n’ont rien vu (…).”

60. “(…) J’apprenais à ne rien croire trop fermement de ce qui ne m’avait été persuadé que par l’exemple et la coutume (…).”

61. “(…) et ainsi je me délivrais peu à peu de beaucoup d’erreurs qui peuvent offusquer notre lumière naturelle et nous rendre moins capables d’entendre raison”.

62. See Quentin Skinner, Visions of Politics. Volume 3: Hobbes and Civil Science, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2002; Gianni Paganini, Skepsis. Le débat des modernes sur le scepticisme (Montaigne, Le Vayer, Campanella, Hobbes, Descartes, Bayle), Paris, Vrin, 2008; Ferrari, Emiliano, & Gontier, Thierry, L’Axe Montaigne-Hobbes: anthropologie et politique, Paris, Classiques Garnier, 2016.

63. “Nous ne sommes jamais chez nous, nous sommes tousjours au delà. La crainte, le desir, l’esperance nous eslancent vers l’advenir” (I, 3, VS 15b); “Nos desirs rajeunissent sans cesse” (II, 28, VS 702a); II, 12, VS 485b.

64. Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, Oxford University Press, 1996, I, 11, p. 66.

65. The French civil war between Catholics and Protestants raged over the period from 1562 to 1598 (Edict of Nantes). In England, the struggle between Parliament and King Charles I resulted in a civil war extending from 1641 to 1651.

66. Leviathan, XIII, 9. For the Latin saying see De Cive, “Dedicatory Epistle”.

67. Montaigne, II, 19, VS 671a: here portraying Emperor Julian, Montaigne drew the same conclusion, having observed Christians’ “cruelty” during the French wars of religion.

68. See Montaigne, II, 12, VS 559; Hobbes, Leviathan, “Of Civil laws”, I, XXVI.

69. Montaigne, III, 13, VS 1072b : “Or les lois se maintiennent en credit, non par ce qu’elles sont justes, mais par ce qu’elles sont loix (…).”

70. I, 26, VS 155: “un effect de jugement et de sincerité”.

Copyright © 2019 by Marc Foglia < marc . foglia @ gmail . com > Emiliano Ferrari < ferrariemil @ gmail . com >

• Accessibility

That to Study Philosophy is to Learn to Die (1580)

...let us learn bravely to stand our ground, and fight him. And to begin to deprive him of the greatest advantage he has over us, let us take a way quite contrary to the common course. Let us disarm him of his novelty and strangeness, let us converse and be familiar with him, and have nothing so frequent in our thoughts as death. Upon all occasions represent him to our imagination in his every shape; at the stumbling of a horse, at the falling of a tile, at the least prick with a pin, let us presently consider, and say to ourselves, ‘Well, and what if it had been death itself?’ and, thereupon, let us encourage and fortify ourselves. Let us evermore, amidst our jollity and feasting, set the remembrance of our frail condition before our eyes, never suffering ourselves to be so far transported with our delights, but that we have some intervals of reflecting upon, and considering how many several ways this jollity of ours tends to death, and with how many dangers it threatens it. The Egyptians were wont to do after this manner, who in the height of their feasting and mirth, caused a dried skeleton of a man to be brought into the room to serve for a memento to their guests... Where death waits for us is uncertain; let us look for him everywhere. The premeditation of death is the premeditation of liberty; he who has learned to die has unlearned to serve. There is nothing evil in life for him who rightly comprehends that the privation of life is no evil: to know, how to die delivers us from all subjection and constraint.

Works of Michel de Montaigne, comprising his essays, journey into Italy, and letters, with notes from all the commentators, biographical and bibliographical notices, etc.; 1864; Hurd and Houghton, New York.

The 16th century French essayist Michel de Montaigne was one of the most influential writers of the French Renaissance, best known for popularising the essay as a literary genre. He published and revised his Essais (translated literally as "Attempts" or Trials") over a period spanning from approximately 1570 to 1592. The intention of this huge corpus of essays on a myriad of subjects, contained in three books and 107 chapters of variable lengths, was to record for the 'private benefit of friends and kinsmen ... some traits of my character and of my humours.' In the essay featured here “That to Study Philosophy is to Learn to Die,” Montaigne turns his thoughts to mortality and the need to face it head on without fear.

• Religion, Myth & Legend
• Thought, Reflection & Theory
• Non-fiction
• 16th Century

Indexed under…

• Death and learning to die

Aug 29, 2013

If You Liked This…

Get Our Newsletter

Our latest content, your inbox, every fortnight

Prints for Your Walls

Explore our selection of fine art prints, all custom made to the highest standards, framed or unframed, and shipped to your door.

Start Exploring

{{ $localize("payment.title") }}

{{ $localize('payment.no_payment') }}

Pay by Credit Card

Pay with PayPal

{{ $localize('cart.summary') }}

Click for Delivery Estimates

Sorry, we cannot ship to P.O. Boxes.

• Project Gutenberg
• 73,863 free eBooks
• 33 by Michel de Montaigne

Essays of Michel de Montaigne — Volume 03 by Michel de Montaigne

Read now or download (free!)

Similar Books

About this ebook.

• Privacy policy
• About Project Gutenberg
• Terms of Use
• Contact Information

Michel de Montaigne and the Art of Writing an Essay

Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592)

On February 28, 1533, French philosopher Michel de Montaigne was born. Montaigne was one of the most significant philosophers of the French Renaissance , known for popularizing the essay as a literary genre. His work is noted for its merging of casual anecdotes and autobiography with intellectual insight. His massive volume Essais contains some of the most influential essays ever written.

“We are, I know not how, double in ourselves, so that what we believe we disbelieve, and cannot rid ourselves of what we condemn.” – Michel de Montagne, as quoted in [9]

Michel de Montaigne – Early Years

Montaigne was born Michel Eyquem at the Château de Montaigne as the eldest of four children of Pierre Eyquem, a Roman Catholic Frenchman who had accompanied King Francis I on his Italian campaign and who had come into contact with the ideas of the Renaissance and Humanism. The father held several high offices in the city of Bordeaux. Montaigne’s mother was Antoinette de Louppes de Villeneuve (1514-1603) from Toulouse. After his birth, Montaigne was given to a nurse living in simple conditions in the nearby hamlet of Papessus near Montpeyroux. When he returned to his family at about three years of age, his father hired a doctor from Germany called Horstanus as a tutor, who could speak neither French nor Gascognic and who spoke only Latin with the child. Since the parents also tried to do so and even the servants had to try, Latin almost became Montaigne’s mother tongue. From 1539 to 1546 Montaigne attended the Collège de Guyenne in Bordeaux, where he was sometimes feared by his teachers because he spoke Latin better than they did. Almost nothing is known about the years 1546 to 1554. Montaigne probably first completed propaedeutic studies at the Artist Faculty of Bordeaux, followed by studies in law.

Councillor of Justice and Political Work

“I want to be seen here in my simple, natural, ordinary fashion, without straining or artifice; for it is myself that I portray…I am myself the matter of my book.” – Michel de Montagne, Essays

In 1554, at the age of twenty-one, Montaigne was appointed to the post of judicial councillor, conseiller at the tax court, Cour des aides, in Périgueux. That same year, he accompanied his father, who had just been elected mayor, to Paris for negotiations with the king. An uncle of Montaigne, Pierre Eyquem seigneur de Gaujac, gave him his seat of judge in Périgueux in 1556. When the tax court of Périgueux was dissolved in 1557, Montaigne was given a judicial council post at the Parlement of Bordeaux, the supreme court of the province of Guyenne. In Bordeaux, he was primarily responsible for the Chamber of Appeal, Chambre des Enquêtes. There he investigated and judged legal cases. As a judge on appeal, he did not pass judgement himself, but gave his written assessment to his fellow judges who were hearing the case. In addition, he also presided over civil proceedings. He travelled to Paris in 1559, 1560 and 1562 in his capacity as Councillor of Justice.

Commitment to Catholicism and first Writings

During his last stay in Paris, which was overshadowed by the beginning of the Huguenot wars with the massacre of Wassy, Montaigne, together with other judges of various French parliaments, solemnly made a commitment to Catholicism. On the death of his father, Pierre Eyquem de Montaigne, in 1568, he inherited the bulk of his property, according to the rules of the noble division of the estate. In 1569, he completed an annotated translation of the Theologia naturalis seu liber creaturarum (1434-1436) “ Book of Creatures ” by the Catalan theologian and physician Raimond Sebond, a native of Toulouse.  He had begun it still at the request of his father.  At the same time as this translation from Latin into French, Montaigne gave in Paris a collection of French and Latin poems by his friend La Boétie in print.

Enough lived for Others

“Wherever your life ends, it is all there. The advantage of living is not measured by length, but by use; some men have lived long, and lived little; attend to it while you are in it. It lies in your will, not in the number of years, for you to have lived enough.” – Michel de Montagne, Essays

In 1571, at the age of thirty-eight, Montaigne resigned from his position as judge and retired to his castle. “Enough lived for others – let us at least live this last part of life for ourselves” is his own statement about this retreat. “ Enough lived for others – let us at least live this last piece of life for ourselves ” is his own statement on this retreat.  With the role of the landed gentry, when the Montaigne saw himself clearly after his retreat into the private sphere, it was perfectly compatible with reading and literary dabbling.  He did this with the help of a private library (about a thousand volumes), which was relatively large by the standards of the time and which had been bequeathed to him in large part by his friend La Boétie.

“A man must be a little mad if he does not want to be even more stupid.” – Michel de Montagne, Essays

He began to write down striking sentences from the works of classical, mostly Latin authors and to make them the starting point for his own reflections. He saw these reflections as attempts to get to the bottom of the nature of the human being and the problems of existence, especially death. He himself had to develop the appropriate form of representation for these “attempts” (French essais ) in a tentative way, because only later, after him and thanks to him, the term essay became the name of a new literary genre. While writing, Montaigne describes his thoughts as if the page before him were his counterpart – just as he would tell his lost friend la Boétie. Changing himself over time, he also encounters the text in a new way when he reads it again. He then corrects, completes and rejects it from the new perspective. His thought process leads him to change himself in turn. “ For him, the whole of humanity consists of nothing but moments governed by his own laws, and he reproduces his empathy with his own past .”

The Essais copy annotated by Montaigne, Bordeaux edition

It was written in the years from 1572 until his death in 1592, and in numerous sections he describes different objects of equally different rank; these range, for example, from confessional disputes to medicine and medical science to fundamental problems of human knowledge. Topics such as interpersonal coexistence, witch trials and superstition, but also riding and horses are treated side by side in kaleidoscopic diversity. Leitmotivic thoughts emerge only at second glance. The Essays change the style of the tractate that has predominated until now. Montaigne pursues an eclectic treatment of his themes. Inspired by ancient authors and philosophical schools, such as Lucretius and his De rerum natura , Cicero , the Epicureans, the Stoa and the Skeptics, he combined spontaneous, associative and volatile ideas into anecdotal texts.

St Bartholomew’s Night

“If it is not beautiful on the right, go left; if I am unable to mount my horse, I will stop… Did I forget to look at something? I turn back; that way I always find my way. I do not plan a line in advance, neither the straight nor the crooked one.” – Michel de Montaigne, Essais, III, 9

Michel de Montaigne had probably combined his move into the private sphere with the hope of spending his days undisturbed by the warlike turmoil of the time. However, when the division in the country deepened after the massacres of the St. Bartholomew’s Night (August 22/23, 1572) and both sides again fought each other, he considered it his duty to join the royal army and thus the Catholic camp. In 1574, however, he also advocated a reconciliation of the denominations with a speech before the judges of the parliament in Bordeaux. After the peace treaty of 1575, which temporarily granted full civil rights to the Protestants, he had Henry of Navarre , the de facto ruler of much of western France, appoint him as his chamberlain.

Travels to Italy

As he had been suffering from renal colic since 1577 (whose strong effects on his condition, thinking and feeling he discussed in the Essais), Montaigne went on a trip to baths in 1580, despite the renewed outbreak of war in France, from which he hoped for relief[47] The trip took him via Paris, where he was received by King Henry III , to several French, Swiss and German baths. The journey presumably led along the postal routes of the time (see the map of the state in 1563) and also served as an educational journey. Montaigne described the journey in a diary, which he did not publish. The manuscript was not found until 1770 by Joseph Prunis in an old chest at Montaigne Castle, and it was printed in 1774.

Mayor of Bordeaux

From 1581 to 1585 Michel de Montaigne was appointed mayor of Bordeaux. In his office as mayor, Montaigne always tried to mediate between the Reformed and the Catholics, and in 1583 he negotiated with Henry of Navarre, who in 1584 became the closest candidate for the throne. Six weeks after the end of his second term as mayor, on 31 July 1585, the plague broke out in Bordeaux. In the period from June to December there were about fourteen thousand victims. After the end of his time as mayor in the late summer of 1585 and the temporary escape from the plague epidemic, he sat down again in his library in the castle tower to process new readings, experiences and insights in the Essais , which he greatly expanded and added a third volume.

Final Years

“Let us give Nature a chance; she knows her business better than we do” – Michel de Montagne, Essays

When he left for Paris on 23 January 1588 to print the new version there, he was robbed on the way by noble highwaymen, but got the manuscript back from them. In the years that followed, he continued to revise and multiply the Essais . In 1590 he witnessed the marriage of his only daughter, who had reached adulthood, and in 1591 the birth of a granddaughter. Montaigne died suddenly during a mass in the château chapel on 13 September 1592, possibly suffering from the so-called “neck tan”, an old name for diphtheria.

Montaigne’s Epistemology

For Michel de Montaigne, sensual perception was a highly unreliable act, because people can suffer from false perceptions, illusions, hallucinations; one could not even be sure that one was not dreaming. The person who perceives the world with his senses hopes to gain knowledge from it. But he is subject to the danger of illusion, and the human senses are not sufficient to grasp the true essence of things. He considers it impossible to separate the appearance from the actual being, for this requires a criterion as an unmistakable sign of correctness. Montaigne uses the term apparence (appearance) to create a way out. Although man cannot recognize the essence of things, he is able to perceive them in their constantly changing appearances.

References and Further Reading:

• [1]  Works by or about Michel de Montaigne  at  Internet Archive
• [2]  Works by Michel de Montaigne  at  LibriVox
• [3]  Facsimile and HTML versions of the 10 Volume Essays of Montaigne  at the Online Library of Liberty
• [4]  Montaigne Studies  at the University of Chicago
• [5] Reynolds, Francis J., ed. (1921).  “Montaigne, Michel, Seigneur”  .  Collier’s New Encyclopedia . New York: P. F. Collier & Son Company. 
• [6] Michel de Montagne, French writer and philosopher , at Britannica online
• [7] Michel de Montaigne at Wikidata
• [8] Timeline of Michel de Montagne, via Wikidata
• [9]  David Schaeffer on Montaigne and Happiness , 
• [10]  The Complete Works of Michael de Montaigne (1877) edited by William Carew Hazlitt, p. 289

Harald Sack

Related posts, pierre simon de laplace and his true love for astronomy and mathematics, conrad gessner’s truly renaissance knowledge, egon friedell’s fascinating cutural histories, h.p. lovecraft and the inconceivable terror, leave a reply cancel reply.

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Further Projects

• February (28)
• January (30)
• December (30)
• November (29)
• October (31)
• September (30)
• August (30)
• January (31)
• December (31)
• November (30)
• August (31)
• February (29)
• February (19)
• January (18)
• October (29)
• September (29)
• February (5)
• January (5)
• December (14)
• November (9)
• October (13)
• September (6)
• August (13)
• December (3)
• November (5)
• October (1)
• September (3)
• November (2)
• September (2)

Legal Notice

• Privacy Statement

Montaigne on Death and the Art of Living

By maria popova.

In one of his 107 such exploratory essays, titled “That to Study Philosophy is to Learn to Die,” Montaigne turns to mortality — the subject of one of this year’s best psychology and philosophy books — and points to the understanding of death as a prerequisite for the understanding of life, for the very art of living .

Montaigne examines our conflicted relationship with dying:

Now, of all the benefits that virtue confers upon us, the contempt of death is one of the greatest, as the means that accommodates human life with a soft and easy tranquillity, and gives us a pure and pleasant taste of living, without which all other pleasure would be extinct. […] The end of our race is death; ’tis the necessary object of our aim, which, if it fright us, how is it possible to advance a step without a fit of ague? The remedy the vulgar use is not to think on’t; but from what brutish stupidity can they derive so gross a blindness? They must bridle the ass by the tail: ‘Qui capite ipse suo instituit vestigia retro,’ [‘Who in his folly seeks to advance backwards’ — Lucretius, iv. 474] ’tis no wonder if he be often trapped in the pitfall. They affright people with the very mention of death, and many cross themselves, as it were the name of the devil. And because the making a man’s will is in reference to dying, not a man will be persuaded to take a pen in hand to that purpose, till the physician has passed sentence upon and totally given him over, and then betwixt and terror, God knows in how fit a condition of understanding he is to do it. The Romans, by reason that this poor syllable death sounded so harshly to their ears and seemed so ominous, found out a way to soften and spin it out by a periphrasis, and instead of pronouncing such a one is dead, said, ‘Such a one has lived,’ or ‘Such a one has ceased to live’ … provided there was any mention of life in the case, though past, it carried yet some sound of consolation. … I make account to live, at least, as many more. In the meantime, to trouble a man’s self with the thought of a thing so far off were folly. But what? Young and old die upon the same terms; no one departs out of life otherwise than if he had but just before entered into it; neither is any man so old and decrepit, who, having heard of Methuselah, does not think he has yet twenty good years to come. Fool that thou art! who has assured unto thee the term of life? Thou dependest upon physicians’ tales: rather consult effects and experience. According to the common course of things, ’tis long since that thou hast lived by extraordinary favour; thou hast already outlived the ordinary term of life. And that it is so, reckon up thy acquaintance, how many more have died before they arrived at thy age than have attained unto it; and of those who have ennobled their lives by their renown, take but an account, and I dare lay a wager thou wilt find more who have died before than after five-and-thirty years of age. … How many several ways has death to surprise us?

Rather than indulging the fear of death, Montaigne calls for dissipating it by facing it head-on, with awareness and attention — an approach common in Eastern spirituality:

[L]et us learn bravely to stand our ground, and fight him. And to begin to deprive him of the greatest advantage he has over us, let us take a way quite contrary to the common course. Let us disarm him of his novelty and strangeness, let us converse and be familiar with him, and have nothing so frequent in our thoughts as death. Upon all occasions represent him to our imagination in his every shape; at the stumbling of a horse, at the falling of a tile, at the least prick with a pin, let us presently consider, and say to ourselves, ‘Well, and what if it had been death itself?’ and, thereupon, let us encourage and fortify ourselves. Let us evermore, amidst our jollity and feasting, set the remembrance of our frail condition before our eyes, never suffering ourselves to be so far transported with our delights, but that we have some intervals of reflecting upon, and considering how many several ways this jollity of ours tends to death, and with how many dangers it threatens it. The Egyptians were wont to do after this manner, who in the height of their feasting and mirth, caused a dried skeleton of a man to be brought into the room to serve for a memento to their guests: ‘Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum Grata superveniet, quae non sperabitur, hora.’ ‘Think each day when past is thy last; the next day, as unexpected, will be the more welcome.’ — [Hor., Ep., i. 4, 13.] Where death waits for us is uncertain; let us look for him everywhere. The premeditation of death is the premeditation of liberty; he who has learned to die has unlearned to serve. There is nothing evil in life for him who rightly comprehends that the privation of life is no evil: to know, how to die delivers us from all subjection and constraint. Paulus Emilius answered him whom the miserable King of Macedon, his prisoner, sent to entreat him that he would not lead him in his triumph, ‘Let him make that request to himself.’ — [ Plutarch, Life of Paulus Aemilius, c. 17; Cicero, Tusc., v. 40. ] In truth, in all things, if nature do not help a little, it is very hard for art and industry to perform anything to purpose. I am in my own nature not melancholic, but meditative; and there is nothing I have more continually entertained myself withal than imaginations of death, even in the most wanton time of my age.

One of Montaigne’s most timeless and timeliest points strikes at the heart of our present productivity-culture, reminding us that the whole of life is contained in our inner life , not in the checklist of our accomplishments:

We should always, as near as we can, be booted and spurred, and ready to go, and, above all things, take care, at that time, to have no business with any one but one’s self: — ‘Quid brevi fortes jaculamur avo Multa?’ [‘Why for so short a life tease ourselves with so many projects?’ — Hor., Od., ii. 16, 17.]

He presages the “real artists ship” mantra Steve Job made famous five centuries later:

A man must design nothing that will require so much time to the finishing, or, at least, with no such passionate desire to see it brought to perfection. We are born to action: ‘Quum moriar, medium solvar et inter opus.’ [‘When I shall die, let it be doing that I had designed.’ — Ovid, Amor., ii. 10, 36.] I would always have a man to be doing, and, as much as in him lies, to extend and spin out the offices of life; and then let death take me planting my cabbages, indifferent to him, and still less of my gardens not being finished.

The essence of his argument is the idea that learning to die is essential for learning to live:

If I were a writer of books, I would compile a register, with a comment, of the various deaths of men: he who should teach men to die would at the same time teach them to live. […] Peradventure, some one may object, that the pain and terror of dying so infinitely exceed all manner of imagination, that the best fencer will be quite out of his play when it comes to the push. Let them say what they will: to premeditate is doubtless a very great advantage; and besides, is it nothing to go so far, at least, without disturbance or alteration? Moreover, Nature herself assists and encourages us: if the death be sudden and violent, we have not leisure to fear; if otherwise, I perceive that as I engage further in my disease, I naturally enter into a certain loathing and disdain of life. I find I have much more ado to digest this resolution of dying, when I am well in health, than when languishing of a fever; and by how much I have less to do with the commodities of life, by reason that I begin to lose the use and pleasure of them, by so much I look upon death with less terror. Which makes me hope, that the further I remove from the first, and the nearer I approach to the latter, I shall the more easily exchange the one for the other.

With a philosophical lens fringing on quantum physics, Montaigne reminds us of the fundamental bias of the arrow of time as we experience it:

Not only the argument of reason invites us to it — for why should we fear to lose a thing, which being lost, cannot be lamented? — but, also, seeing we are threatened by so many sorts of death, is it not infinitely worse eternally to fear them all, than once to undergo one of them? … What a ridiculous thing it is to trouble ourselves about taking the only step that is to deliver us from all trouble! As our birth brought us the birth of all things, so in our death is the death of all things included. And therefore to lament that we shall not be alive a hundred years hence, is the same folly as to be sorry we were not alive a hundred years ago. … Long life, and short, are by death made all one; for there is no long, nor short, to things that are no more.

He returns — poignantly, poetically — to the meaning of life :

All the whole time you live, you purloin from life and live at the expense of life itself. The perpetual work of your life is but to lay the foundation of death. You are in death, whilst you are in life, because you still are after death, when you are no more alive; or, if you had rather have it so, you are dead after life, but dying all the while you live; and death handles the dying much more rudely than the dead, and more sensibly and essentially. If you have made your profit of life, you have had enough of it; go your way satisfied.

Half a millennium before Carl Sagan, Montaigne channels the sentiment at the heart of Pale Blue Dot :

Life in itself is neither good nor evil; it is the scene of good or evil as you make it.’ And, if you have lived a day, you have seen all: one day is equal and like to all other days. There is no other light, no other shade; this very sun, this moon, these very stars, this very order and disposition of things, is the same your ancestors enjoyed, and that shall also entertain your posterity.

He paints death as the ultimate equalizer:

Give place to others, as others have given place to you. Equality is the soul of equity. Who can complain of being comprehended in the same destiny, wherein all are involved?

The heart of Montaigne’s case falls somewhere between John Cage’s Zen philosophy and the canine state of being-in-the-moment :

Wherever your life ends, it is all there. The utility of living consists not in the length of days, but in the use of time; a man may have lived long, and yet lived but a little. Make use of time while it is present with you. It depends upon your will, and not upon the number of days, to have a sufficient length of life.

He concludes with an admonition about the solipsistic superficiality of death’s ritualization:

I believe, in truth, that it is those terrible ceremonies and preparations wherewith we set it out, that more terrify us than the thing itself; a new, quite contrary way of living; the cries of mothers, wives, and children; the visits of astounded and afflicted friends; the attendance of pale and blubbering servants; a dark room, set round with burning tapers; our beds environed with physicians and divines; in sum, nothing but ghostliness and horror round about us; we seem dead and buried already. … Happy is the death that deprives us of leisure for preparing such ceremonials.

Michel de Montaigne: The Complete Essays is now in the public domain and is available as a free download in multiple formats from Project Gutenberg .

Public domain illustrations via Flickr Commons

— Published December 12, 2012 — https://www.themarginalian.org/2012/12/12/montaigne-on-death-and-the-art-of-living/ —

www.themarginalian.org

PRINT ARTICLE

Email article, filed under, books culture history montaigne philosophy public domain, view full site.

The Marginalian participates in the Bookshop.org and Amazon.com affiliate programs, designed to provide a means for sites to earn commissions by linking to books. In more human terms, this means that whenever you buy a book from a link here, I receive a small percentage of its price, which goes straight back into my own colossal biblioexpenses. Privacy policy . (TLDR: You're safe — there are no nefarious "third parties" lurking on my watch or shedding crumbs of the "cookies" the rest of the internet uses.)

• Games & Quizzes
• History & Society
• Science & Tech
• Biographies
• Animals & Nature
• Geography & Travel
• Arts & Culture
• On This Day
• One Good Fact
• New Articles
• Lifestyles & Social Issues
• Philosophy & Religion
• Politics, Law & Government
• World History
• Health & Medicine
• Browse Biographies
• Birds, Reptiles & Other Vertebrates
• Bugs, Mollusks & Other Invertebrates
• Environment
• Fossils & Geologic Time
• Entertainment & Pop Culture
• Sports & Recreation
• Visual Arts
• Demystified
• Image Galleries
• Infographics
• Top Questions
• Britannica Kids
• Saving Earth
• Space Next 50
• Student Center
• Introduction

Michel de Montaigne

Our editors will review what you’ve submitted and determine whether to revise the article.

• Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy - Michel de Montaigne
• Academia - Michel De Montaigne and the Power of Language
• Jewish Virtual Library - Michel de Montaigne
• Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy - Michel de Montaigne
• Libertarianism.org - Michel de Montaigne
• Michel de Montaigne - Student Encyclopedia (Ages 11 and up)
• Table Of Contents

Michel de Montaigne (born February 28, 1533, Château de Montaigne, near Bordeaux, France—died September 23, 1592, Château de Montaigne) was a French writer whose Essais ( Essays ) established a new literary form. In his Essays he wrote one of the most captivating and intimate self-portraits ever given, on a par with Augustine’s and Rousseau’s.

Living, as he did, in the second half of the 16th century, Montaigne bore witness to the decline of the intellectual optimism that had marked the Renaissance . The sense of immense human possibilities, stemming from the discoveries of the New World travelers, from the rediscovery of classical antiquity, and from the opening of scholarly horizons through the works of the humanists, was shattered in France when the advent of the Calvinistic Reformation was followed closely by religious persecution and by the Wars of Religion (1562–98). These conflicts, which tore the country asunder, were in fact political and civil as well as religious wars, marked by great excesses of fanaticism and cruelty. At once deeply critical of his time and deeply involved in its preoccupations and its struggles, Montaigne chose to write about himself—“I am myself the matter of my book,” he says in his opening address to the reader—in order to arrive at certain possible truths concerning man and the human condition, in a period of ideological strife and division when all possibility of truth seemed illusory and treacherous.

Born in the family domain of Château de Montaigne in southwestern France , Michel Eyquem spent most of his life at his château and in the city of Bordeaux , 30 miles to the west. The family fortune had been founded in commerce by Montaigne’s great-grandfather, who acquired the estate and the title of nobility. His grandfather and his father expanded their activities to the realm of public service and established the family in the noblesse de robe , the administrative nobility of France. Montaigne’s father, Pierre Eyquem, served as mayor of Bordeaux.

As a young child Montaigne was tutored at home according to his father’s ideas of pedagogy , which included the creation of a cosseted ambience of gentle encouragement and the exclusive use of Latin, still the international language of educated people. As a result the boy did not learn French until he was six years old. He continued his education at the College of Guyenne, where he found the strict discipline abhorrent and the instruction only moderately interesting, and eventually at the University of Toulouse , where he studied law. Following in the public-service tradition begun by his grandfather, he entered into the magistrature, becoming a member of the Board of Excise, the new tax court of Périgueux , and, when that body was dissolved in 1557, of the Parliament of Bordeaux, one of the eight regional parliaments that constituted the French Parliament, the highest national court of justice . There, at the age of 24, he made the acquaintance of Étienne de la Boétie, a meeting that was one of the most significant events in Montaigne’s life. Between the slightly older La Boétie (1530–63), an already distinguished civil servant, humanist scholar, and writer, and Montaigne an extraordinary friendship sprang up, based on a profound intellectual and emotional closeness and reciprocity . In his essay “On Friendship” Montaigne wrote in a very touching manner about his bond with La Boétie, which he called perfect and indivisible, vastly superior to all other human alliances. When La Boétie died of dysentery, he left a void in Montaigne’s life that no other being was ever able to fill, and it is likely that Montaigne started on his writing career, six years after La Boétie’s death, in order to fill the emptiness left by the loss of the irretrievable friend.

In 1565 Montaigne was married, acting less out of love than out of a sense of familial and social duty, to Françoise de la Chassaigne, the daughter of one of his colleagues at the Parliament of Bordeaux. He fathered six daughters, five of whom died in infancy, whereas the sixth, Léonore, survived him.

In 1569 Montaigne published his first book, a French translation of the 15th-century Natural Theology by the Spanish monk Raymond Sebond. He had undertaken the task at the request of his father, who, however, died in 1568, before its publication, leaving to his oldest son the title and the domain of Montaigne.

In 1570 Montaigne sold his seat in the Bordeaux Parliament, signifying his departure from public life. After taking care of the posthumous publication of La Boétie’s works, together with his own dedicatory letters, he retired in 1571 to the castle of Montaigne in order to devote his time to reading, meditating, and writing. His library, installed in the castle’s tower, became his refuge. It was in this round room, lined with a thousand books and decorated with Greek and Latin inscriptions, that Montaigne set out to put on paper his essais , that is, the probings and testings of his mind. He spent the years from 1571 to 1580 composing the first two books of the Essays , which comprise respectively 57 and 37 chapters of greatly varying lengths; they were published in Bordeaux in 1580.

Although most of these years were dedicated to writing, Montaigne had to supervise the running of his estate as well, and he was obliged to leave his retreat from time to time, not only to travel to the court in Paris but also to intervene as mediator in several episodes of the religious conflicts in his region and beyond. Both the Roman Catholic king Henry III and the Protestant king Henry of Navarre—who as Henry IV would become king of France and convert to Roman Catholicism —honoured and respected Montaigne, but extremists on both sides criticized and harassed him.

After the 1580 publication, eager for new experiences and profoundly disgusted by the state of affairs in France, Montaigne set out to travel, and in the course of 15 months he visited areas of France, Germany , Switzerland , Austria , and Italy . Curious by nature, interested in the smallest details of dailiness, geography, and regional idiosyncrasies, Montaigne was a born traveler. He kept a record of his trip, his Journal de voyage (not intended for publication and not published until 1774), which is rich in picturesque episodes, encounters, evocations, and descriptions.

While still in Italy, in the fall of 1581, Montaigne received the news that he had been elected to the office his father had held, that of mayor of Bordeaux . Reluctant to accept, because of the dismal political situation in France and because of ill health (he suffered from kidney stones , which had also plagued him on his trip), he nevertheless assumed the position at the request of Henry III and held it for two terms, until July 1585. While the beginning of his tenure was relatively tranquil, his second term was marked by an acceleration of hostilities between the warring factions, and Montaigne played a crucial role in preserving the equilibrium between the Catholic majority and the important Protestant League representation in Bordeaux. Toward the end of his term the plague broke out in Bordeaux, soon raging out of control and killing one-third of the population.

Montaigne resumed his literary work by embarking on the third book of the Essays . After having been interrupted again, by a renewed outbreak of the plague in the area that forced Montaigne and his family to seek refuge elsewhere, by military activity close to his estate, and by diplomatic duties, when Catherine de Médicis appealed to his abilities as a negotiator to mediate between herself and Henry of Navarre—a mission that turned out to be unsuccessful—Montaigne was able to finish the work in 1587.

The year 1588 was marked by both political and literary events. During a trip to Paris Montaigne was twice arrested and briefly imprisoned by members of the Protestant League because of his loyalty to Henry III. During the same trip he supervised the publication of the fifth edition of the Essays , the first to contain the 13 chapters of Book III, as well as Books I and II, enriched with many additions. He also met Marie de Gournay, an ardent and devoted young admirer of his writings. De Gournay, a writer herself, is mentioned in the Essays as Montaigne’s “covenant daughter” and was to become his literary executrix. After the assassination of Henry III in 1589, Montaigne helped to keep Bordeaux loyal to Henry IV. He spent the last years of his life at his château, continuing to read and to reflect and to work on the Essays , adding new passages, which signify not so much profound changes in his ideas as further explorations of his thought and experience. Different illnesses beset him during this period, and he died after an attack of quinsy , an inflammation of the tonsils , which had deprived him of speech. His death occurred while he was hearing mass in his room.

Find anything you save across the site in your account

Me, Myself, And I

By Jane Kramer

Every French schoolchild learns the date: February 28, 1571, the day a well-regarded and uncommonly educated nobleman named Michel de Montaigne retired from “the slavery of the court and of public duties,” moved a chair, a table, and a thousand books into the tower of his family castle, near Bordeaux, shut the door, and began to write. It was his thirty-eighth birthday, and, by way of commemoration, he had the first two sentences he wrote that morning painted on the wall of a study opening onto his new library—announcing, if mainly to himself, that having been “long weary” of those public duties (and, presumably, of his wife, at home in the castle, a few steps across the courtyard) Michel de Montaigne had taken up residence in “the bosom of the learned Virgins, where in calm and freedom from all cares he will spend what little remains of his life, already more than half expired.” His plan, he said, was to use the second half looking at himself, or, as he put it, drawing his portrait with a pen. He had his books for company, his Muses for inspiration, his past for seasoning, and, to support it all, the income from a large estate, not to mention a fortune built on the salt-herring and wine trades, which, in the last century, had turned his family into landed gentry. (His full name, as most oenophiles can tell you, was Michel Eyquem de Montaigne.)

Montaigne’s pursuit of the character he called Myself—“bashful, insolent; chaste, lustful; prating, silent; laborious, delicate; ingenious, heavy; melancholic, pleasant; lying, true; knowing, ignorant; liberal, covetous, and prodigal”—lasted for twenty years and produced more than a thousand pages of observation and revision that he called “ essais ,” taking that ordinary word and turning it into a literary occupation. When he died, at fifty-nine, he was still revising and, apparently, not at all surprised, since Myself was a protean creature, impossible to anticipate but also, being always at hand, impossible to ignore. I like to think of the essays as a kind of thriller, with Myself, the elusive prey, and Montaigne, the sleuth, locked in a battle of equals who were too close for dissimulation and too smart for satisfaction. And it may be that Montaigne did, too, because he often warned his readers that nothing he wrote about himself was likely to apply for much longer than it took the ink he used, writing it, to dry. “I am myself the matter of my book,” he said, when the first two books of essays appeared, in 1580. “You would be unreasonable to spend your leisure on so frivolous and vain a subject.”

He was wrong. By the time he finished a third book, eight years later, everyone in France with a philosophic bent and a decent classical education had read the first two—lured, perhaps, by the writer’s promise that “my defects will here be read to the life, and also my natural form, as far as respect for the public has allowed”—and, given that some ninety per cent of the French were illiterate, that probably means that everyone who could read the essays did. By sixteenth-century standards, Montaigne had produced a best-seller, although he maintained the pretense that he wrote only for himself or, at most, “for a few men and a few years.” (“The public favor has given me a little more confidence than I expected” is how he described the effect on him.) News of the essays travelled fast. The first known English translation, by an exuberantly prolific language tutor named John Florio, went on sale in London at the turn of the seventeenth century, in time for Shakespeare to buy a copy. It was followed, in 1685, by the poet Charles Cotton’s lovely version—the one that most Englishmen and Americans read until 1957, when Donald Frame, a Columbia professor who went on to become Montaigne’s preëminent American biographer, produced his own translation. Thirty years later, the Oxford professor M. A. Screech did the same for Britain. I have used all three, along with, in French, my old, dog-eared Flammarion copy of the essays and the seriously intimidating new Pléiade edition, which came out in Paris in 2007, doubled in size by nearly a thousand pages of endnotes and annotations incorporating four hundred years of Montaigne research. (I admit to tweaking a few of the English quotes, in the spirit of competition and interpretation.)

However you read them, Montaigne’s books were utterly, if inexplicably, original. They were not confessional, like Augustine’s, nor were they autobiographical. You could call them the autobiography of a mind, but they made no claim to composing the narrative of a life, only of the shifting preoccupations of their protagonist in an ongoing conversation with the Greek and Roman writers on his library shelves—and, of course, with himself. His belief that the self, far from settling the question “Who am I?,” kept leaping ahead of its last convictions was in fact so radical that for centuries people looking for precedents had to resort to a few fragments of Heraclitus on the nature of time and change—or, eventually, to give up and simply describe Montaigne as “the first modern man.” It didn’t matter if he was quoting Seneca in an essay called “To Philosophize Is to Learn How to Die” or, a few pages later, in an essay about imagination, musing on the vagaries of penises: “We are right to note the licence and disobedience of this member which thrusts itself forward so inopportunely when we do not want it to, and which so inopportunely lets us down when we most need it; it imperiously contests for authority with our will: it stubbornly and proudly refuses all our incitements, both of the mind and hand.” He followed himself wherever his attention settled, and his regard was always the same—intent, amused, compassionate, contrarian, and irresistibly eclectic. (He could jump from Plato’s discourse on the divinatory power of dreams to dinner at the castle—“a confusion of meats and a clutter of dishes displease me as much as any other confusion”—and do justice to them both.) One of his favorite philosophers, starting out, was the skeptic Sextus Empiricus, who had famously cautioned his followers to “suspend judgment” on everything but the experience of their own senses. Voltaire called Montaigne one of history’s wise men, but when it came to the big philosophical questions that absorbed him—the nature of justice, say, or morality—he seemed to be saying, like Sextus, that there may be no truths, only moments of clarity, passing for answers.

The best way to read Montaigne is to keep watching him, the way he watched himself, because the retired, reclusive, and pointedly cranky Michel de Montaigne is in many ways a fiction—a mind so absorbingly stated that by now it can easily pass for the totality of Montaigne’s “second” life. In fact, he went to the best parties in the neighborhood. He attended all the important weddings—and never mind that, by his admission, he’d practically been dragged to his own; the bride was a suitable Bordeaux girl named Françoise de la Chassaigne and the alliance more or less arranged. (His view of marriage, he wrote in the essay “On Some Verses of Virgil,” was that he was “not so fit for it” but had acquiesced for “posterity,” and he held to the common wisdom that the secret of a peaceful, companionable marriage was to keep one’s wife permanently unaroused, the better to fix her thoughts on the details of hospitality and “sound housekeeping.”) He had everybody’s ear. He corresponded with beautiful, educated women who read his drafts. He dined at the castle with wellborn men who had learned to value his advice and, more to the point, his tact during his years of “public duties,” both as a local emissary to the court of Charles IX, in Paris, and as a magistrate at the law court known at the time as the Parlement de Bordeaux.

He claimed to have forsworn his youth, which was apparently so unruly that eight years of it are missing from the public record; “I burned myself at [lust] in my youth, and suffered all the furies that the poets say come upon all those who let themselves go after women without restraint and without judgment” was how he described those years, when he was in his fifties. But he never forswore women or, for that matter, the thrill of watching a good battle, or any of the other indulgences of his class. (“For the intimate companionship of my table I choose the agreeable not the wise; in my bed, beauty comes before virtue,” he once said.) He left his tower in 1580 for a year of travelling. He left it again in 1581 to become the mayor of Bordeaux—at the time the country’s third-largest city and its richest port. Two years later, he agreed to a second term. And, while an avowed Catholic royalist (whether by conviction or, as a few of the essays suggest, because of a suspicion that taking a leap of faith on the big loyalties of his time was the best way to clear his mind for more enticing subjects), he was also a close friend and confidant of the Protestant Henri de Navarre, and was Navarre’s emissary to the Catholic court of Charles’s brother and successor, Henri III. His lifetime encompassed the spread of Calvinism through France, and the eight Catholic-Protestant wars provoked by conversions like Navarre’s within the royal family. And if Montaigne did not take sides in those wars, it may be that he thought of them as a family matter, which in a way they were. The Henris were both directly descended from Louis IX—the paterfamilias of three hundred years of French kings—and by 1584, with the death of Henri III’s brother, Navarre was himself first in line to the French throne. “My house, being always open, easily approached and ever ready to welcome all men (since I have never let myself be persuaded to turn it into a tool for a war in which I play my part most willingly when it is farthest from my neighborhood), has earned quite a lot of popular affection,” Montaigne wrote, about a year later, in the essay he called “On Vanity.”

Link copied

Authors are, of course, sneaky. (Montaigne put it nicely: “All is a-swarm with commentaries: of authors there is a dearth.”) They lead you exactly where they want to go, and no farther. By the end of the essays, you know a great deal about Montaigne’s mind and temperament, but, as for his promise that “my defects will here be read to the life,” you are still waiting for the details of that life and most of the people in it. His evasions are legendary. He writes a great deal about the tyranny of laws but nothing about his fourteen years as a magistrate or his four years as a mayor, or even about his response, as mayor, to the plague that struck Bordeaux toward the end of his second term, leaving a third of the population dead. (He fled.) He writes a great deal about wives but rarely refers to his own and never by name, though he claims to have made himself “fall in love” to marry, a task perhaps made briefly pleasant by the fact that Françoise is said to have been an exceptionally beautiful and lively girl. Montaigne, at the time, was thirty-two and, he says, ready to be a dutiful and respectful husband. But he was not much interested in Françoise—nor, it may be, she in him, since some scholars have thrown her into the arms of his younger brother Arnaud, a good-natured and sportif Army captain who died young, from a tennis ball to the ear. Montaigne himself rarely slept in his wife’s bed, except for purposes of procreation; she gave him six daughters in thirteen years, and only one of them, Léonor, lived past infancy—a fact he dismissed with the unnerving remark (Montaigne experts are still arguing about why he made it and what it meant) that he had “lost two or three.”

As for his mother, he alludes to her twice, but only in passing. Her name was Antoinette Louppes de Villeneuve. She came from a far-flung merchant clan, similar to the Montaignes in wealth and influence, but with the notable exception that, while the Montaignes were then solidly and safely Catholic, some of the Louppes were Protestant, and the family themselves were Sephardic conversos from Saragossa, where their name was Lopez de Villanueva. (Several had left Spain before the expulsions of 1492, and were thriving in Europe as properly minted Christians, or, as the new Pléiade edition chooses to put it, a Christian family “ anciennement convertie .”) Antoinette grew up in Toulouse. She arrived at the castle a reluctant bride of sixteen, to marry Pierre Eyquem, an eccentric but apparently exemplary chatelain (and a future mayor of Bordeaux himself), and, once having settled her duty to her children by bearing them, she was attached mainly to herself. She claimed that Michel had exhausted her getting born—eleven months of pregnancy, by her calculations—and was furious to learn that, by her husband’s last will, he was not only heir to but steward of the estate she had expected to manage in her lifetime. Their relations were, by anyone’s standards, sour. The year after Pierre died, she threatened to sue Michel over the ownership of a family necklace; he discovered it in his wife’s jewel box and gave it back, hoping to avoid the scandal of a court case—after which she spent a long, bitter, and contentious widowhood in the company of a granddaughter who seems to have been the only relative she liked.

But Montaigne was not much interested in family histories of any sort, and his own was apparently untouched by not only the anti-Semitism that attached to the children of “new Christian” immigrants like the Louppes but also the Catholic-Protestant wars at home. Some of Montaigne’s siblings became Protestant, with no evident disruption to the family—even during the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacres of 1572, when thirty thousand French Calvinists died. He doesn’t mention those massacres in the essays, either. For him, the subject of Protestants and Jews (who had been barred from practicing their religion in France since the end of the fourteenth century) seems to have been, at most, food for his meditations on the absurdities of persecution and the fatal distractions of disharmony. He efficiently wrote off Martin Luther for leaving behind in Germany “as many—indeed more—discords and disagreements because of doubts about his opinions than he himself ever raised about Holy Scripture.” He quoted Josephus and admired the Maccabees. But, when it came to seeing an old Jew herded naked through the streets of Rome, he remained a reporter—curious, compassionate, but not particularly disturbed. He did not expect much better from the world. Relatives, to his mind, were accidents of birth, consideration, and proximity. The genealogy that interested him was the genealogy of thought. He was far more interested in thinking about religion with the Sophists and Skeptics in his library than he was in the part that religion, even his own Catholicism, played in him.

For all that, he was a passionate traveller. His search for the spa that would cure his kidney stones—the disease had killed his father and would eventually help kill him—took him to Switzerland, Austria, and Germany. His love of the classics took him to Italy. In Rome, where his own copy of the essays had been seized by the Inquisition, he walked the streets of his dead mentors: “I like thinking about their faces, their bearing and their clothing,” he said. “I mutter their great names between my teeth and make them resound in my ears.” (Latin, by his father’s decree, was not only his first language but the only one he was allowed to speak for his first six years.) He prowled the ghetto, visiting a synagogue, watching a circumcision, and happily cross-examining the rabbi. (By the end of his visit he had met the Pope and was made an honorary Roman citizen.) Today, we would call him a gentleman ethnographer, more enchanted than alarmed by the bewildering variety of human practices. “Yes. I admit it,” he wrote in “On Vanity.” “Even in my wishes and dreams I can find nothing to which I can hold fast. The only things I find rewarding (if anything is) are variety and the enjoyment of diversity.” He was interested in all things unfamiliar and exotic, from immolations in India to cannibalism in the New World. In the essay he called “On the Cannibals,” he described “a very long talk” he had once had with a Tupi chief, brought to France from Brazil and, at the time, on display in Rouen for a royal visit. He admired the Indian’s gentleness and his evident perplexity at the pomp and the poverty and the cruelty displayed so indifferently and indiscriminately to him . “I think there is more barbarity in eating a man alive than in eating him dead,” he wrote, “more barbarity in tearing apart by rack and torture a body still sentient, in roasting him little by little and having him bruised and bitten by pigs and dogs (as we have not only read about but seen in recent memory, not among enemies in antiquity but among our fellow-citizens and neighbors—and what is worse, in the name of duty and religion) than in roasting him and eating him after his death.” No one has said it better.

“Anyone can see that I have set out on a road along which I shall travel without toil and without ceasing as long as the world has ink and paper,” Montaigne wrote at the beginning of “On Vanity,” his late and perhaps greatest essay. “I cannot give an account of my life by my actions: fortune has placed them too low for that; so I do so by my thoughts.” He compares himself to a nobleman he once knew who would keep his chamber pots for a week to display, seriatim, to his friends—“He thought about them, talked about them: for him any other topic stank”—saying, “Here (a little more decorously) you have the droppings of an old mind, sometimes hard, sometimes squittery, but always ill-digested.” He starts to extrapolate—“Scribbling seems to be one of the symptoms of an age of excess. When did we ever write so much as since the beginning of our Civil Wars? And whenever did the Romans do so as just before their collapse?”—and catches himself in time to add that “each individual one of us contributes to the corrupting of our time: some contribute treachery, others (since they are powerful) injustice, irreligion, tyranny, cupidity, cruelty: the weaker ones bring stupidity, vanity, and idleness, and I am one of them.” He accuses himself, a little pridefully, of pride—in writing at all, with his country at war, and in the small, stubborn habits with which he flaunts his disregard, saying that “if one of my shoes is askew then I let my shirt and my cloak lie askew as well: I am too proud to amend my ways by halves. . . . The words I utter when wretched are words of defiance.”

Montaigne called “On Vanity” one of those essays which, being quite long and not at all confined by the titles he gave them, “require a decision to read them and time set aside.” It is a meditation on dying and, at the same time, on writing—or, you could say, on writing oneself to life in the face of death, on getting “lost” in words and in “the gait of poetry, all jumps and tumblings” and in the kind of space where “my pen and my mind both go a-roaming.” (“My mind does not always move straight ahead but backwards too,” he says. “I distrust my present thoughts hardly less than my past ones and my second or third thoughts hardly less than my first.”) And it draws pretty much the whole cast of characters from his library into the conversation—the kings and philosophers and poets and historians and statesmen and assorted saints and scoundrels whom he introduced on the first pages of Book I, with the words “Man is indeed an object miraculously vain, various and wavering. It is difficult to found a judgment on him which is steady and uniform.” Since then, they have appeared and reappeared through the essays like characters in a novel, demolishing one another’s arguments. Now, in a way, he both honors and discards them, along with their cluttering truths, their most congenial wisdom, and the deceptive comfort they sometimes bring.

Thus his ruminations on vanity move quickly from disreputable shoes (and the way that the “forlorn state of France” mirrors his “forlorn age”) to Petronius, Horace, and Lucretius, each discoursing, in Latin, on the metaphysics of droughts, storms, crop failures—the deaths of nature. But he isn’t interested. He interrupts them to complain about the burden of managing his own land, and the difficulty of economizing, in lean years, for someone “used as I am to travel not merely with an adequate retinue but an honorable one.” He says that, unlike Crates, who “jumped into the freedom of poverty . . . I loathe poverty on a par with pain.” He prefers the freedom that money gives him to go away. “I feel death all the time, jabbing at my throat and loins. But I am made otherwise: death is the same for me anywhere. If I were allowed to choose I would, I think, prefer to die in the saddle rather than in my bed, away from home and far from my own folk. There is more heartbreak than comfort in taking leave of those we love. . . . I would willingly therefore neglect to bid that great and everlasting farewell.” He considers the case of Socrates, who, preferring death to banishment, took the hemlock—and then nails him with praise as one of those “heaven-blessed” men whose qualities are “so soaring and inordinate that . . . I am quite unable to conceive them.”

At the same time, he worries, or pretends to, about his inattention at home. He agrees with Diogenes, who said that the wine he liked best was always the wine somebody else had made, but then, typically, berates himself. He describes the good husbandry of his father: “I wish that, in lieu of some other part of his inheritance, my father had bequeathed me that passionate love for the running of his estates. If only I can acquire the taste for it as he did, then political philosophy can, if it will, condemn me for the lowliness and barrenness of my occupation.” (Pierre, he said, was “the best father that ever was”; he had studied law to please him, and once spent more than a year translating Raymond Sebond’s enormous treatise “Theologia Naturalis” from Latin to French so that his father, who rued the lack of Latin in his own education, could read it.) A few lines later, he remembers that he is a father himself—and he turns to the problem of finding “a son-in-law who would fill my beak, comfort my final years and lull them to sleep, into whose hands I could resign the control and use of my goods . . . provided that he brought to it a truly grateful and loving affection.” But he doesn’t mention Léonor, or, for that matter, his dead children. When he thinks about loss now, at fifty-three, it is his father he mourns and, more than anyone, his “soul’s” friend Étienne de la Boétie, a Bordeaux poet who was arguably the love of his life and whose early death, he once said, drove him to marriage in the hope of solace and then into his tower for escape. They are the absent interlocutors of “On Vanity”: the people he talks to about death, talking to himself; the only ones he describes with what could be called a deep sense of relationship.

How to describe the dazzling ramble of “On Vanity”? For nearly all of its sixty pages, it has no arguments, personal or philosophical, to expound, no revelations on the nature of man to offer, no path to salvation to propose. What we get, instead, is the gift he has given himself: “scope and freedom” of interpretation; language that is “blunt” and “raw”; and, most of all, the experience of Montaigne thinking. (Ralph Waldo Emerson, in a classic essay on Montaigne, wrote that the “marrow of the man reaches to his sentences. . . . Cut these words, and they would bleed.”) He can move in a few paragraphs from the admonitions in I Corinthians 3:20—“Those exquisite subtleties are only good for sermons: they are themes which seek to drive us into the next world like donkeys. But life is material motion in the body, an activity, by its very essence, imperfect and unruly: I work to serve it on its own terms”—to a riff on the corruption of judges, the hypocrisy of moralists and diet doctors, and the secret sex lives of Greek philosophers, as described by an exceptionally expensive fourth-century-B.C. courtesan named Lais, who said, “I know nothing of their books . . . but those fellows come knocking at my door as often as anyone.”

You could call this intellectual free association, but it is far too sterile a term for the mind of Michel de Montaigne running after itself, arguing against argument, reading his thoughts and his aging body at least as carefully as he reads his books. (His copy of Lucretius’ De Rerum Natura, at the Cambridge University Library, is filled with enough Latin and French margin notes to make a book themselves.) But he thinks of himself as a browser, and in a way he is, because, by his account, a couple of interesting thoughts or stories in one book will always remind him of something smarter, or more interesting—or, better still, contradictory—in another book, and he opens that. By the time he begins “On Vanity,” most of his favorite quotes have been carved into the beams and woodwork of the tower—for inspiration, fast access, and, perhaps, distraction. (He would have loved Google.) Those words are the preferred company of his old age, however spurious their counsel. He wants to “die, grinding [his] teeth, among strangers,” and what more accommodating strangers than dead ones, speaking across millennia from his rafters—the kind of strangers who, like paid companions to the old and frail, “will leave you alone as much as you like, showing you an unconcerned face and letting you think and moan in your own way.” Death, he says, “is not one of our social engagements: it is a scene with one character.”

But the truth is that writing about death—surrounded by the books that he says “console me and counsel me to regulate my life and my death”—has put him off dying. The world intrudes on his gloom, battles for his attention, and almost always wins. He longs to revisit Rome. His wife must have been against this, because he says, “Truly, if any wife can lay down for her husband how many paces make ‘far’ and how many paces make ‘near,’ my counsel is to make him stop half-way…and let those wives dare to call Philosophy to their aid.” Like the clueless Professor Higgins, he wishes that women were more like men. “In a truly loving relationship—which I have experienced—rather than drawing the one I love to me I give myself to him,” he says, remembering La Boétie. “Not merely do I prefer to do him good than to have him do good to me, I would even prefer that he did good to himself rather than to me: it is when he does good to himself that he does most good to me. If his absence is either pleasant or useful to him, then it delights me far more than his presence.” The question, of course, is what the absence called death means.

The penultimate pages of “On Vanity” are an homage to Rome (and perhaps to himself, since he quotes in full the papal bull that made him a Roman citizen). But he ends the essay in the oracular heart of Greece, with the Delphic admonition to “know thyself,” and in a few pages turns the idea of vanity on its head, defending his pursuit of himself, however fractured, transitory, or imperfect, as the only knowledge he, or anyone, can hope to gain. It is the one argument for a “truth” he makes in a hundred and seven essays: “Nature has very conveniently cast the action of our sight outwards. We are swept on downstream, but to struggle back towards our self against the current is a painful movement; thus does the sea, when driven against itself, swirl back in confusion. Everyone says: ‘Look at the motions of the heavens, look at society, at this man’s quarrel, that man’s pulse, this other man’s will and testament’—in other words always look upwards or downwards or sideways, or before or behind you. Thus, the commandment given us in ancient times by the god at Delphi was contrary to all expectations: ‘Look back into your self; get to know your self; hold on to your self.’ . . . Can you not see that this world of ours keeps its gaze bent ever inwards and its eyes ever open to contemplate itself? It is always vanity in your case, within and without, but a vanity which is less, the less it extends. Except you alone, O Man, said that god, each creature first studies its own self, and, according to its needs, has limits to his labors and desires. Not one is as empty and needy as you, who embrace the universe: you are the seeker with no knowledge, the judge with no jurisdiction and, when all is done, the jester of the farce.”

When Montaigne moved his books to the third floor of his tower, he moved a bed to the floor below. He would cross to the castle for dinner, after which he would say good night and leave. It is tempting to imagine him at his desk then, pen in hand, books scattered around him, and candle flickering, but in fact he never wrote or read after the sun set—a habit he recommended to his readers, saying that with books “the soul disports itself, but the body, whose care I have not forgotten, remains inactive, and grows weary and sad.” He was seven years into the essays when he suffered his first serious attack of kidney stones, writing that illness and sleep, like madness, “make things appear to us otherwise than they appear to healthy people, wise men, and waking people.” He lived in fear of the next attack, and, even more, of what he called “emptiness.” He was the man who ( pace Roosevelt and Thoreau) first said, “The thing I fear most is fear . . . it exceeds all other disorders in intensity.”

Toward the end of his life, he claimed to have accepted emptiness. He had once called his essays “monstrous bodies, pieced together of diverse members, without definite shape, having no order, sequence, or proportion other than accidental,” and blamed the fact that “my ability does not go far enough for me to dare to undertake a rich, polished picture, formed according to art.” But there is every indication that, growing older, he missed the statesman’s life. When Navarre succeeded to the throne, in 1589, becoming Henri IV of France—and, after four more years of religious war, making a shrewd conversion to Catholicism with the words “Paris is well worth a Mass”—Montaigne wrote to volunteer his services again. Henri replied, delighted, and in January of 1590, when his letter arrived, Montaigne wrote back, saying that he had always wished for the succession, “even when I had to confess it to my curate,” and then offering the advice that “where conquests, because of their greatness and difficulty, could not be thoroughly completed by arms and by force, they have been completed by clemency and magnanimity, excellent lures to attract men, especially toward the just and legitimate side.” The passage is vintage Montaigne: a prescription for wise rule lurking in a few fine, flattering phrases about the fruits of victory; a strategic detour into the real world to say that “if rigor and punishment occur, they must be put off until after the possession of mastery”; and, finally, an appropriate classical example—in this case, Scipio the Elder. In July, Henri summoned Montaigne to Paris, but by September, when he had hoped to go, Montaigne was too sick to travel. ♦

By signing up, you agree to our User Agreement and Privacy Policy & Cookie Statement . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

By Sam Knight

By Deborah Treisman

By Cressida Leyshon

By Bruce Headlam

French thinker Michel de Montaigne invented a whole new genre in which to do philosophy: the essay. But in his use of that form, Montaigne repeatedly digresses and contradicts himself. So why did he think the essay was a good medium for philosophy? What impact did Montaigne’s invention have on his own philosophical work, and on the centuries of thought that followed? Are there particular forms of writing that help us live a more philosophical life? The philosophers live their best life with Cécile Alduy from Stanford University, author of The Politics of Love: Poetics and Genesis of the "Amours" in Renaissance France (1549-1560).

Listening Notes

Are essays a good way to do philosophy? What if they’re full of digressions and contradictions? Josh thinks that Michel de Montaigne’s essays don’t do true philosophical work because they’re filled with contradictions, but Lanier argues that they’re full of themes like knowledge, morality, and death. Plus, essays were a form of trying out certain claims and questioning one’s own knowledge. Josh agrees after realizing that contradiction is beneficial to skepticism because it reminds us to be more humble about what we know. 

The hosts welcome Cécile Alduy, Professor of French Literature and Culture at Stanford University, to the show. Lanier questions what defines the essay in Montaigne’s sense, and Cécile explains that his literary form was notable for trying out contradictory ideas, having many digressions, and being honest about his argument’s shortcomings. Josh appreciates how the use of the essay brings out the value of the written word, and Cécile describes how Montaigne not only wrote about himself, but also put himself in conversation with other authors and philosophers. 

In the last segment of the show, Josh, Lanier, and Cécile discuss how philosophers today could benefit from returning to the essay form and modern day equivalents of Montaigne. Cécile suggests Adam Gopnik and Susan Sontag as two similar essayists, while Josh thinks of David Foster Wallace for his characteristic digressions and retractions. Lanier asks if Montaigne could be considered a proto-feminist, and Cécile points out that he called for the increased education of girls and women. In fact, she thinks that the essay would be a good literary form for the feminists of today. 

Roving Philosophical Report (Seek to 4:51) → Holly J. McDede provides a brief biography of Michel de Montaigne’s life. 

• Sixty-Second Philosopher (Seek to 45:34) → Ian Shoales considers how Montaigne and his essays would fare in today’s society.

Josh Landy   Are essays a good way to do philosophy?

Lanier Anderson   What if they're full of digressions or contradictions?

Josh Landy   Does that make them even more philosophical?

Get Philosophy Talk

Sunday at 11am (Pacific) on  KALW 91.7 FM , San Francisco, and rebroadcast on many other stations nationwide

Full episode downloads via Apple Music and abbreviated episodes (Philosophy Talk Starters) via Apple Podcasts , Spotify , and Stitcher

Unlimited Listening

Buy the episode.

Related Blogs

What montaigne knew.

Are essays a good way to do philosophy? What if they’re full of digressions and contradictions? Could that possibly make them more philosophical, not less? This week we’re thinking about Michel de Montaigne and the art of the essay.

Related Resources

Alduy, Cécile (2006). Montaigne and the 29 Sonnets of Étienne de La Boétie: From Composing Poetry to Composing Essays .

Alduy, Cécile (2007). The Politics of Love: Poetics and Genesis of the "Amours" in Renaissance France .

Sontag, Susan (1978). Illness as Metaphor .

Bonus Content

Research By

Comments (18).

Tuesday, April 13, 2021 -- 9:46 AM

A listener in Tel Aviv sent in this question too late to include in the recording:

Montaigne is most well known for having invented the essay, which means the try. But didn’t the great sage Yoda declare that there is no try, only do? How would Montaigne respond to Yoda's claim?

Log in or register to post comments

Tuesday, April 13, 2021 -- 1:16 PM

https://media.giphy.com/media/26FmQ6EOvLxp6cWyY/giphy.gif

Wednesday, April 14, 2021 -- 10:48 PM

This question is a fun play on words, but essays are doing, not trying to do. Montaigne did.

I have never read Montaigne before coming on this show topic and am only now most of the way through at this point, but I do see some reflections of Yoda's "Do or do not, There is no try."

This quote is probably my favorite so far and hits on Yoda's call for belief in order to do.

"For each man good or ill is as he finds. The man who is happy is not he who is believed to be so but he who believes he is so: in that way alone does belief endow itself with true reality." - Book I 14. That the taste of good and evil things depends in large part on the opinion we have of them

In this respect alone, he attributes belief to solid ground. In everything else, Montaigne reduces to trying or at least questioning. This is a very deep point as Ken was wont to say.

These essays are impacting me and resonating with my own thought. Michel goes on later and gets more into the call for the need for self doubt.

"What a loathsome malady it is to believe that you are so right that you convince yourself that nobody can think the opposite." - Book I 56. On prayer

Other than that, Montaigne is not one to push things with fictional Force. He seems very much opposed to the power of fiction in general.

The converse is true of the Jedi master. I doubt Yoda ever talked to Luke about his penis, flatulence, or body shame. Montaigne would have looked harshly, thinking of Yoda as a true sage. He does indulge in the dark and the light a bit in his reverence for Christianity, but even that seems secondary to his truths.

"Whatever people preach to us and whatever we may learn from them, never forget that the giver is a man and so is the taker; a mortal hand presents it to us: a mortal hand takes it from him. Only such things as come to us from Heaven have the right and the authority to carry conviction; they alone bear the mark of Truth; but even they cannot be seen with our human eyes, nor do we obtain them by our own means: so great and so holy an Image could never dwell in so wretched a dwelling, unless God first makes it ready for that purpose, unless he forms it anew and fortifies it by his special grace and supernatural favour." - Book II 10. On books

I can't say how much I am impressed by Montaigne. I'm delighted with this show for bringing this to my world. What other works have I skipped in my youth that need excavating?

Thursday, January 26, 2023 -- 11:23 AM

The claim which Professor Yoda is making here states a principle and is not accurate if literally interpreted. While all tries are doings, not all doings are tries. A try is a doing whose outcome is uncertain, but the Professor recommends that any undetermined variable independent of intent be replaced with an intent-dependent one determined by the agent, like an athlete who visualizes success prior to effort-expenditure. This is thus very bad advice where those undetermined variables lay within optional range of other agents. Napoleon I, for example, was certain of defeating the British, which led to his own defeat at Waterloo.

As to the response-hypothetical, a plausible supposition can be made that the Essayist would consider the Professor's objection a purely semantic one which does not apply to contents, but suggests merely that he change the name of the respective literary form. But how might an alternative to this be proposed? Could one suggest that in matters of theory and scientific research, one should begin with the conclusion and then simply go about collecting empirical support for it? Might one say that modern physics has followed Yoda's recommendation?

Thursday, April 22, 2021 -- 9:58 AM

I just finished the essays last night, and as is my custom, when I am affected by a book, I jot my impressions on my first pass through directly to the author. Generally, I have been reading contemporary works, but in this case, I have no recourse. Here is my letter. Hopefully, you can write your own letter or perhaps even respond in his stead. His spirit is in all of us, whether you know it or not. Michel was a great human being in a not-so-great time. So, reader, are you.

To the Writer

Dear Michel,

I follow a particular salon where people talk lightly about philosophy; they call it ‘Philoso?hy Talk©’, your essays came up; I just now finished reading them, and here are my impressions. If I read them correctly, I doubt I will go back to reread them. Thanks for your service.

So many things have happened since you have died. Your work is as relevant now as it was in your time. The tricky thing, for modern readers ( I write to you from the year 2021 using your recently updated Gregorian calendar – which it seems so appropriate – we largely still use )... the tricky thing is that your ideas and countenance have quickly become the core operating system of human identity and thought.

Upon reading your first essay, I immediately asked myself, “Self, Why am I reading this?” I couldn’t really answer that as you state so plainly, you are writing this only about yourself as a passage in time to your family and kin. It took me a few essays to comprehend this. Humankind are your kin. But there was more.

Why were you so diligent in seeking to get this work published? Why the constant revisions? Why the commentary in your time and significantly more so after your passing? Why had I not read your book in my youth (I’ll save you that story?) Why am I so profoundly affected having read this? Why?

Here are my answers. I think I get it. I’ve yet to hear our salon run this down but here are my answers in anticipation and reflection of my first, and I think only, reading of your attempt at Philosophy.

You are writing from a time of significant change; the Spanish Inquisition, the rape of the new world, the dawn of the exploitation of economy and class. You are not able to speak openly for fear of being called out by your church, by your government, and worst of all, your mother (who I don’t need to remind you – outlived you.) What does one do when faced with such censorship? You have done well.

Granted, you were given a silver spoon/pen to write these essays, but you could have squandered your education (which took two generations of good fortune to bring to fruition.) I am glad you didn’t. Your singular focus on your own mind and time threw out all pretensions of academy that, save the elided near half-millennium since your birth, have come to revisit our time and brains.

Just as you wrote to a world beginning to throw out religion for science (yes, we can say that now without fear of being put to death,) so now our world is faced with throwing out science for technology. As you leverage Lucretius’ De Rerum Natura and the work of Sextus Empiricus, we now balance science with the expediency and urgency of artificial intelligence. Ancient philosophy informs religion informs science informs technology. As you point out. It all ties together.

The best, maybe only path, is the one you show. (By the way, I have to stop here to say your got several things wrong in these essays.) That you wrote this is enough to inspire humans to open the books of their brains and explicate their own truths. Que sais-je? - What do I know?

Thanks for writing this. I am in your debt. After Cécile Alduy and others have their say, I might comment on their thought. If not, I am good. Thanks to you.

Tim Smith; this twenty second of April, Two thousand, twenty and one.

Thursday, February 16, 2023 -- 11:31 AM

Michel wrote me back just now vis-a-vis ChatGBT. I've been playing around with this tool, and am finding it fun and helpful even in forming my own thought.

For the chat - here is the AI Montaigne's response.

Thank you for taking the time to read my essays and for sharing your thoughts with me. I appreciate your insights and observations, and I am glad to hear that my work has resonated with you.

You ask why I was so diligent in seeking to get my work published and why I constantly revised it. The simple answer is that I saw writing as a means of self-discovery and self-exploration. I did not write for a particular audience, but rather for myself and those closest to me. However, as my essays began to circulate and gain popularity, I saw the potential for them to be of value to others as well. As for the revisions, I saw writing as a process of continual refinement and improvement, much like the human mind itself.

I am pleased to hear that my essays have been relevant to readers in your time, and that they have provided a means of navigating the complexities of the modern world. You are right that my work was written during a time of great change, and that censorship and fear of persecution forced me to write in a particular way. But I also believe that the fundamental questions I explored in my essays are timeless, and that they will always be relevant to human life and thought.

I appreciate your kind words, and I am honored to have inspired you to explore your own truths. That is the ultimate goal of philosophy, and it is my hope that my work will continue to inspire others for generations to come.

Michel de Montaigne

I have written several authors alive and dead after reading their work. Since OpenAI allowed public use, I have been happy to hear back immediately. The responses are improving week to week. This is going to make my reading so much more insightful. Where I loved to blog and chat, I now do that with ChatGBT as well. It's fun... for now. There are dangers, but let's not fret yet.

Sunday, April 25, 2021 -- 5:50 PM

i enjoyed the Montaigne show. Just wanted to say that Adam Phillips is a much better example of a modern essayist than Adam Gopnik. She got the wrong Adam.

Friday, July 21, 2023 -- 7:47 AM

Montaigne, the French thinker, revolutionized philosophy with his invention of the essay as a new genre. Despite its digressions and self-contradictions, Montaigne found the essay to be a powerful medium for philosophy. The essay allowed him to explore complex ideas and reflect on his own experiences, thoughts, and emotions in a personal and honest manner. Through this introspective approach, Montaigne aimed to understand the human condition, encouraging readers to engage in self-exploration and critical thinking.

The impact of Montaigne's invention was profound, shaping not only his philosophical work but also the centuries of thought that followed. His essays opened the door to a more intimate and individualistic approach to philosophy, influencing subsequent philosophers to explore their inner worlds and challenge established ideas.

As for the impact on our own lives, Montaigne's essays remind us that philosophy is not just an abstract pursuit but a way of living. He believed that philosophical reflection should guide our actions and attitudes, helping us navigate life's complexities with wisdom and virtue. By embracing the essay's form, Montaigne encouraged readers to engage with their own thoughts and experiences, fostering a more philosophical way of life.

While the essay is one form that can promote a philosophical life, other writing styles can also be influential. For instance, the intimate and reflective nature of personal diaries or journals allows for deeper introspection, while poetic expression can evoke profound philosophical insights through imagery and metaphor.

In conclusion, Montaigne's invention of the essay as a philosophical medium revolutionized the way we approach and practice philosophy. His impact endures through the centuries, reminding us that philosophy is not just a theoretical exercise but a tool to live a more thoughtful and meaningful life. Various forms of writing can assist us in this endeavor, nurturing a philosophical way of being in the world.

Thursday, November 9, 2023 -- 1:42 PM

Great idea to pass on your experience to future students. I wish we wrote letters like this. Now when I am going to write a research paper, I would like to take help. And I found https://www.phdresearchproposal.org/engineering-research-proposal-topics/ where they can help me. My writing skills are well developed, but this kind of paper I am writing for the first time and I am afraid to do it wrong.

Tuesday, November 28, 2023 -- 2:54 PM

I absolutely agree with you. Students often have difficulties in writing essays. And fortunately there is best paper writing service 99papers.com where they can help with this task. It has helped me personally many times.

Sunday, December 10, 2023 -- 2:04 AM

Monday, January 8, 2024 -- 3:08 PM

An in-depth exploration of Montaigne's essay artistry through a purchased interview essay can illuminate his unique approach to introspection and reflection. Such an essay can provide invaluable insights into Montaigne's techniques and philosophies, aiding those seeking to grasp the essence of essay writing. A way to buy interview essay on this topic can be a pivotal resource in understanding and appreciating the mastery behind Montaigne's essayistic legacy.

Tuesday, January 16, 2024 -- 11:04 PM

Unlocking academic excellence in Canada becomes a seamless journey with EssayShark! As a student navigating the Canadian educational terrain, I've unearthed an invaluable asset in ca.essayshark.com . This platform's unwavering dedication to excellence ensures that my essays transcend the ordinary, becoming showcases of scholarly brilliance. EssayShark's seasoned writers grasp the nuances of Canadian academic standards, consistently delivering impeccable essays well ahead of deadlines. For Canadian students seeking a dependable ally in their academic adventure, EssayShark stands out as a beacon of quality. Elevate your essay writing experience with EssayShark and witness the transformative impact on your academic expedition.

Monday, January 22, 2024 -- 3:09 AM

Kingdom Hearts Organization 13 Black Coat. This iconic black coat, inspired by the legendary gaming series, is more than just a piece of clothing – it's a statement. Crafted with high-quality materials, it features a distinctive long, kingdom hearts themed cosplay coats flowing design and silver accents that fans recognize and love. Perfect for cosplay enthusiasts or for those who simply appreciate unique, celebrity-inspired fashion. Embrace the style of your favorite Kingdom Hearts characters and make a bold fashion statement, whether at a convention, themed party or just on a casual day out. This coat isn't just apparel; it's a piece of the vast, enchanting Kingdom Hearts universe brought to life. Get ready to turn heads and capture the essence of Organization 13's enigmatic charm. Shop now and join the ranks of stylish fans across the USA who celebrate the blend of fashion and fandom.

Wednesday, March 13, 2024 -- 1:18 PM

Super! Just what I was looking for. Contradiction in an essay can be useful because it can stimulate skepticism and inspire a more humble approach to one's own knowledge. Essays on the topic of literature are relevant now, because essay writing https://literaturereviewwritingservice.com/literary-analysis/ is an important aspect of learning. This approach can contribute to a deeper understanding of the topic and the development of critical thinking. Thanks for your thoughts.

Wednesday, February 21, 2024 -- 7:27 PM

The success stories of students who have benefited from Wr1ter's services are a testament to its transformative impact. Time and again, students have reported not only improved grades but also enhanced confidence, clarity of expression, and critical thinking skills. With writing essay services wr1ter.com by their side, students can navigate the complexities of academia with confidence, knowing that they have a trusted ally dedicated to their academic success.

Monday, March 11, 2024 -- 8:54 AM

I decided to write a paper about psychology, I am a 4th year student at the university, but as luck would have it, I got sick, so I decided to contact a company that writes such papers https://www.masterpapers.com/buy-research-papers and they wrote the work with quality and quickly, I’m so glad because I submitted everything on time. Now for the future I think that I will write everything myself. Because I paid money for it, and not little.

Friday, June 14, 2024 -- 5:01 AM

The color of this outfit Sonic The Hedgehog Racing Jacket is very attractive and the fabric is very soft such dresses can be worn in all kinds of events.

• Create new account
• Request new password

Upcoming Shows

Daniel Dennett Retrospective

Nísia Floresta

20th Anniversary Quiz Night

Listen to the preview.

Your complimentary articles

You’ve read one of your four complimentary articles for this month.

You can read four articles free per month. To have complete access to the thousands of philosophy articles on this site, please

Brief Lives

Michel de montaigne (1533-1592), brad rappaport writes an essay on the inventor of the essay..

In order to understand Michel de Montaigne, one must understand his time; and yet, paradoxically, the reason why his Essays continue to be read down to our own day is on account of their timelessness.

Montaigne lived in the late sixteenth century, a time of faction and civil war in France. Protestantism had just arisen out of the ferment of ideas which had been brewing since the rediscovery of ancient texts during the time now known to us as the Renaissance, which had seen the flourishing of the arts in all their forms. Eventually, the success of the arts in such respects as the emergence of perspective in painting would be paralleled by developments in the sciences, leading, centuries later, to the Industrial Revolution. But at the time Montaigne was writing, such forces were just beginning to coalesce, and their birth was violent, with wars of religion breaking out across Europe.

Montaigne was born on February 28, 1533, before the outbreak of religious conflict in France. His world and the thinking of his culture was circumscribed by religion, in particular, Catholicism. Moreover, Montaigne held title to nobility – he was Lord of Montaigne – at a time when the Western world was still unquestioningly organized around the principles of monarchy and aristocracy. The French Revolution lay two centuries in the future, and the majority of his contemporaries associated democracy with upheaval and mob rule, not the ordered and legitimate form of government with which it is associated today.

Several generations previously, a great-grandfather had made a fortune in business, and used it to buy the estate from which Michel de Montaigne would take his name – the family otherwise being known by the surname Eyquem. Some of Montaigne’s ancestors were Jews. Under pressure from the Expulsion Order of 1492, if they cared to preserve their faith intact, Jews in Spain fled to the Ottoman Empire or elsewhere, while some remained in Spain and continued to practice in secret, or else converted. Those who chose to remain usually blended in with the surrounding society, losing their distinctive character. It is from some of this party that Montaigne was partly descended. (Although I have not read it remarked upon elsewhere, it seems to me that Montaigne’s famous tolerance was part of his need to be authentic.) Montaigne sided with the Catholics in the wars of religion, putting him in an inherently conservative position; which is to say, he sought to preserve the existing order. However, he held the conflict itself in contempt, and savored time alone to write his Essays , partly out of resignation over an ultimate powerlessness to contribute meaningfully to its resolution.

Most of Montaigne’s contemporaries had neither time nor education for personal pursuits and interests, as a nobleman might have. Although he did serve the public, whether in the parliament of Bordeaux, where he lived, or later as its mayor, this service should be construed as noblesse oblige – the obligation of a nobleman to the locality to which he belonged as a leading figure.

Montaigne’s friendship with Étienne de la Boétie, ending with the latter’s early death, is the stuff of legend. Much ink has been spilled by academics over the rise of subjectivity and the interior life in the early modern period, with the friendship between the two, who bonded over talk of ideas, being a set-piece in such discussions. He also married, and had a daughter.

One further biographical note about him: his father brought him up in a Latin-speaking environment from infancy. This doubtless accounts for his love of ancient Roman authors, on whom he principally draws for examples of the virtues which he himself has been judged by so many to exemplify.

Critical Review

In spite of his conservatism, Montaigne’s book Essays (1580-95) is widely held to be the first of its kind. It is of a piece with the spirit of experimentation which would come to define the scientific mentality in the centuries that would follow. The Essays has 107 chapters in three volumes, covering all sorts of topics, ranging from smells to laws to pedantry. The last volume was published posthumously, in 1595. Perhaps what marks the Essays as unique for its time, and singular in its effect on writers who would follow it, is that it is a work of psychology. The introspectiveness and unorthodoxy of the Essays sets it apart from any other kind of record of one’s activities which could have been found at the time.

It’s an interesting endeavor in which Montaigne is engaged. In a preface he deprecates his own value as subject-matter, and proposes that his essays are really best read as an attempt to keep a record of his own character for the sake of his friends and family. Yet elsewhere in the work he takes long detours from the subject at hand to discuss his project of essay-writing. Not for scribes alone, or monks in their cells, his repartee ! There is in this sense a somewhat unchristian ambition in the project of the Essays . Although he’s always mordantly self-deprecating, it cannot have escaped him that he was taking a shot at the kind of renown which he well knew it is folly to fix one's self-estimation on achieving. Perhaps he had something of a romance with the printing press, invented only in the previous century, which itself had a major role to play in the ferment of ideas of the time.

What strikes the reader first about the Essays is that Montaigne is unsystematic. He has no intentions of circumscribing the world in a book. As I said, religion and the state already circumscribed his world, and he wrote of what he found within it. As a conservative, he shrank back from any prospect that the regular order of things, sustained by custom, could be upended by a radical attempt to re-organize it along artificial lines, which is to say, against the grain of habit. Montaigne gives due deference to religion, and does not dismiss accounts of the fantastical, such as feats of superhuman strength in ancient times or the testimony to miracles that are integral to Christianity. However, he is anything but a theologian. Much of the philosophy which succeeded the ancient world but which preceded Montaigne had about it the character of apologetic – sophisticated rationalizations as to why one should believe in the manner expected of a Christian, Jew or Muslim. Montaigne, by contrast, is quite content to let the reader presume, based on what he has written, that he extends no credit to the doctrine of the immortality of the soul – provided that it’s publically understood that he does credit it. He has no ambition to set himself up as a genius from whom others should take their bearings, for he knows full well that the ideas informing him come from outside of himself. It is from the security of a known world – the world of Church and throne – that he is able to turn his gaze inward and report on what he finds there. If what he finds seems to be at odds with what he avows as true as a good Catholic, so much the worse for what he finds; yet it does not cease to have been discovered, even if it contravenes revealed truth.

An Essay into the Essays

Montaigne had no illusions about the ultimate groundlessness of custom and habit as such. In his early essay ‘On Prognostication’, Montaigne quotes a Roman authority: “As for those who understand the language of birds and learn more from the liver of a beast than from their own thought, they should be heard, I think, rather than heeded.” Indeed, in this essay he heaps scorn on those who would place their faith in divination. To those who point out the occasions on which a prediction has been vindicated he says in effect that even a broken clock is right twice a day. But in a later essay, he proves more yielding to the possibility of mysterious interpositions in human affairs, writing that “it is an absurd presumption to scorn and condemn as false what seems to us not probable”, saying further that this presumption is an affliction common to those who think themselves superior to the common man. Here is his agnosticism at work. Montaigne is determined to remain open to the possibility of what is widely credited and reported, especially by those whom he esteems, such as Augustine. He constantly asks, ‘What do I know?’ Indeed, his biographers make much of his having adopted those words as his motto.

Montaigne’s argument for openness to reports of the improbable is that even those things which are natural strike us as amazing if we have never seen them before. In an essay ‘On A Child Monster’, he gives the example of a child who has a second head and another set of arms. We now know this to be caused by the failure of twins to differentiate themselves in the womb. The explanation, of course, does not negate the improbability of the occurrence. Likewise, in ‘On Conversation’, Montaigne gives the examples of preferring to be the twelfth or fourteenth to arrive at a banquet rather than the thirteenth, and of putting on the left shoe before the right, and says that, weighed against the alternative of ‘emptiness’, he believes that such inclinations should be allowed. When it comes to affirming the attested miracles of the Christian faith, he confesses that it is obligatory to treat them as verities if we would honor tradition. Yet Montaigne is incontrovertibly correct when he says that there are some things which, by definition, we cannot know.

In his essay ‘On Custom and the Inadvisability of Changing an Established Law’, he writes of something he certainly did not fail to observe in his own case: “Peoples brought up in liberty, and to rule themselves, consider every other form of government monstrous and contrary to nature. Those who are accustomed to monarchy think in the same fashion.” The reader with the conviction of our day, that liberal democracy is self-evidently the best form of government, should take note. Yet lest he conclude that it is required by intellectual rigor that he abandon this conviction, let him note that Montaigne goes on as follows: “It is the rule of rules and the universal law of laws, that every one must obey those of the place where he is”, quoting what my edition says is an unknown Greek source: “It is noble to obey the laws of the country in which one dwells.” For all his devotion to Christianity and defense of the laws of France against innovation, Montaigne's commitment to absolutism is a function of this relativism.

There is much in custom that is indefensible from the perspective of reason, but the elevation of reason to a criterion against which custom should be judged, and, if not conformable to it, dismissed, is characteristic of a certain period of time. That time would find much to celebrate in Montaigne, on account of his willingness to investigate human nature fearlessly, regardless of religious orthodoxy. The difference between Montaigne and Enlightenment philosophers, however, is that he never drew the imperious conclusion they did, that religious orthodoxy can be dismissed. Montaigne’s work thus resists the modernist presumption that philosophy can replace religion, and that religion is an antiquated relic which vanguard intellectuals know better than to credit.

On the contrary, in ‘On Vanity’ Montaigne writes that the “old theology and earliest philosophy” are best thought of as poetic in nature; yet he requires that we take this earliest material as grist for the mill of our own thinking. We are indebted to it; and the idea that religion (albeit the pagan religion of Homer and Socrates) could be dismissed by rigorous inquiry as anything other than germane, and urgently so, Montaigne would have regarded as disconnected from reality. The idea that we can get beyond our ‘infancy’, being of the self-same flesh as the earliest life and culture, is a delusion characteristic of the kind of religiosity from which the Enlightenment took itself to be a departure, even while mirroring it. Montaigne’s Essays is, by Enlightenment standards, an antiquated survival, of the kind to which the Enlightenment saw itself as superior. Its author’s authenticity, however, has caused the Essays to outlast the Enlightenment view that the role of religion can be confined to the past.

Montaigne’s form of essay-writing influenced later thinkers, many of whom followed suit, including Francis Bacon, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. However, all three of these authors wrote philosophical, scientific or novelistic writings in addition to writing about themselves, whereas Montaigne had written about the humanities incidentally in the process of self-disclosure of an unusual kind. Nevertheless, his Essays played its part in the shift away from unexamined Aristotelianism towards the modern sciences, that is, from knowledge gleaned from ancient authority, to knowledge gleaned from experience, and then from experiment.

Montaigne, who mercilessly ridiculed the quack medicine of his day to the amusement of his readers, conceded that he would, at times, take a remedy just to please the doctor. He died at home on September 13, 1592, of quinsy, an illness of the tonsils which today we take for granted can be cured.

© Brad Rappaport 2019

Brad Rappaport is a civil servant in New York City, where he also makes his home.

This site uses cookies to recognize users and allow us to analyse site usage. By continuing to browse the site with cookies enabled in your browser, you consent to the use of cookies in accordance with our privacy policy . X

Montaigne: Essays

53 pages • 1 hour read

Montaigne: Selected Essays

A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.

Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Translator’s Preface-Book 1, Chapter 21

Book 1, Chapters 26, 28, 31, 39, and 50

Book 2, Chapters 6, 11, and 17

Book 2, Chapters 18, 28, and 30

Book 3, Chapters 2, 12, and 13

“Discourse on Voluntary Servitude”

Key Figures

Symbols & Motifs

Important Quotes

Essay Topics

Discussion Questions

Summary and Study Guide

Montaigne: Selected Essays comes from the pen of Michel de Montaigne , a 16th-century French jurist, advisor, and diplomat whose many adventures would make a compelling autobiography. Instead, Montaigne writes a series of short works that examine his innermost thoughts and feelings, attitudes and beliefs, preferences and daily habits. This would seem a dull topic, but Montaigne’s charm, wit, and wisdom shine through and make the mundane seem fascinating. His attitude is tolerant and open-minded for his era, and his ideas and insights remain relevant today. The essays have entertained and enlightened readers worldwide for over 400 years.

This edition of his book features eighteen of Montaigne’s 107 essays, along with a well-known and influential discourse by Montaigne’s dearest friend, Étienne de la Boétie . The essays were first published as three Books; those chosen for this edition are organized by Book. Most of the essays discuss several topics, but each contains a central theme.

Get access to this full Study Guide and much more!

• 7,900+ In-Depth Study Guides
• 4,800+ Quick-Read Plot Summaries
• Downloadable PDFs

In Book 1, the first essay, “By Differing Means We Attain the Same End,” describes two ways to win mercy after defeat in battle. The second essay, “Idleness,” explores the problem of a wandering mind. The third, “Through Philosophy We Learn How to Die,” suggests a proper attitude toward death. “The Power of the Imagination” shows how superstitions can kill, self-consciousness can defeat, and a doctor’s reassurance can cure.

“The Education of Children” lists Montaigne’s surprisingly modern ideas for how kids should be taught. In the process, we learn his prescription for how to help a young person grow into someone who will lead a worthwhile life.

“Friendship” explores the difference between ordinary companions and true friends. “The Cannibals” suggests that so-called “barbaric” tribes have lessons to teach Europeans. “Democritus and Heraclitus” finds common cause with famous pessimists.

The SuperSummary difference

• 8x more resources than SparkNotes and CliffsNotes combined
• Study Guides you won ' t find anywhere else
• 175 + new titles every month

In Book 2, “Practice” gives tips on how to prepare for death; “Cruelty” talks about how hard it is to be virtuous; “Being Presumptuous” attacks vanity and putting on airs; “Correcting” rails against lying. In “To Everything There Is a Season,” Montaigne scoffs at old men who try to stay young. “A Malformed Child” opines that everything, even the strange or deformed, is part of Nature’s plan.

Three selections come from Book 3: “Repenting”, on the folly of apologizing for who you really are; “Physiognomy,” on the wars and plagues that visit Montaigne’s neighborhood; and “Experience,” which touts the virtues of common sense over fancy ideals.

The final section is the essay “Discourse on Voluntary Servitude,” a call to arms against tyranny that influences revolutionaries and philosophers for centuries. It also affects Montaigne’s thinking, as it comes from the man Montaigne loved most in the world, Étienne de la Boétie.

Montaigne’s style is direct, lively, humorous, and sometimes bawdy and coarse. He wanders from topic to topic in the style of a lively conversation. Though he cites frequently the sayings of ancient philosophers, he also trusts his own judgment, and the gist of the essays is that we, too, should trust ourselves—that life isn’t so much a problem to be solved as an experience to be enjoyed for what it is.

The book’s original French is translated into English for modern Americans; it contains extensive footnotes, many of which provide historical background and serve as annotations well worth consulting.

Editor’s note: This guide refers to the 2012 Hackett Classics edition, translated by James B. Atkinson and Martin Sices.

Featured Collections

Elizabethan Era

View Collection

French Literature

Philosophy, Logic, & Ethics

Interact Blog

Learn list building with quizzes

• Make a quiz with AI

Everything you need to build your list with a quiz.

Browse hundreds of customizable and conversion focused templates organized by industry.

Connect your our custom built integrations and all the Zaps you’ll ever need.

Browse some of the top performing quizzes in the wild!

Quiz tutorials, list building, case studies, and everything else to grow your business with a quiz.

Creator stories from business owners just like you.

This comprehensive quiz course is your step-by-step guide all the way through from ideation to execution.

We’re all about creating connections and bringing humanity back into the world of marketing.

Get the goods on what our customers are saying about us!

Let’s grow together!

Existing customer? Login

Literary and Philosophical Essays Informative Summary

This eBook, compiled in 2004 by Project Gutenberg, presents a collection of translated essays from prominent French, German, and Italian thinkers. The anthology delves into timeless human concerns, including preparing for death, educating children, and the importance of friendship. Michel de Montaigne’s introspective essays lay bare his personal thoughts and experiences, offering wisdom and insight into human nature.

The compilation also explores philosophical and artistic concepts, with authors like Kant and Lessing examining ethical principles and the evolution of human understanding. Mazzini contrasts the poetic giants, Byron and Goethe, revealing their distinct approaches to individuality and their roles as representatives of a fading era. The essays provide a window into the intellectual landscape of Europe, capturing the spirit of philosophical inquiry and the enduring quest for meaning and truth.

Key Findings:

• Montaigne’s emphasis on self-reflection:  He encourages constant contemplation of death as a path to a life of greater freedom and tranquility.
• Kant’s categorical imperative:  He argues that moral actions are those driven by duty, derived from universal principles, and independent of personal inclination.
• Lessing’s view of revelation as education:  He posits that divine revelation guides humanity’s intellectual and spiritual development, much like education shapes an individual.
• Renan’s celebration of Celtic poetry:  He highlights the unique characteristics of Celtic imagination, its connection to nature, and its influence on European literature.
• Mazzini’s analysis of Byron and Goethe:  He contrasts their approaches to individuality, recognizing their significance as poets who summed up a fading era and paved the way for a new social poetry.
• Understanding Montaigne’s philosophy:  Readers will gain insight into Montaigne’s unique approach to self-reflection, his emphasis on embracing life’s imperfections, and his view of death as a natural part of existence. For example, his essay “That to Philosophize is to Learn How to Die” encourages constant contemplation of death, not out of fear, but as a path to greater freedom and tranquility.
• Grasping Kant’s ethical framework:  Readers will delve into Kant’s categorical imperative, a fundamental principle of his moral philosophy. Kant argues that a moral action is one that is driven by duty, derived from a universal principle that could be applied to all rational beings, and independent of personal inclinations or desired outcomes.
• Appreciating Lessing’s perspective on human development:  Readers will encounter Lessing’s concept of revelation as education, a progressive process that guides humanity’s intellectual and spiritual development. Just as education shapes an individual, divine revelation, according to Lessing, has guided the human race towards greater understanding.
• Exploring the richness of Celtic poetry:  Readers will discover the distinct characteristics of Celtic imagination, its profound connection to nature, and its significant influence on the romantic literature of Europe. Renan’s essay illuminates the unique beauty and enduring legacy of Celtic poetry and mythology.
• Contrasting Byron and Goethe’s poetic approaches:  Readers will explore a comparative analysis of Byron and Goethe, two literary giants, highlighting their contrasting approaches to individuality and their roles as representatives of a fading era. Mazzini argues that while both poets were significant, their individualistic approach to poetry ultimately led to egotism and despair, paving the way for a new form of social poetry.

Historical Context:

This eBook, compiled in 2004, doesn’t inherently contain a single historical context. However, the essays within span centuries, from Montaigne in the 16th century to Mazzini in the 19th century. They reflect the evolving intellectual landscape of Europe, marked by periods of religious and political upheaval, philosophical inquiry, and artistic innovation. Readers will gain insights into the prevailing thoughts and concerns of the times in which these authors lived and wrote.

• Death is inevitable.  All humans will eventually die, regardless of status or wealth. This is evidenced by Montaigne’s many historical examples in “That We Should Not Judge of Our Happiness Until After Our Death.”
• Preparing for death can lead to a more fulfilling life.  By contemplating death, individuals can shed anxieties and live with greater freedom, as argued by Montaigne.
• Virtue should be pursued for its own sake.  Kant asserts that truly moral actions are driven by duty and respect for the law, not personal gain or happiness.
• Humanity is capable of progress.  Lessing believes that divine revelation, like education, guides humanity towards greater intellectual and spiritual understanding.
• The Celtic race has a rich poetic tradition.  Renan highlights the unique characteristics of Celtic imagination, including a deep connection to nature and a penchant for mystical quests.
• Romantic love is a key theme in Celtic literature.  Renan argues that the concept of chivalrous love, with its emphasis on honor and devotion to women, is a Celtic contribution to European literature.
• Arthur is a largely mythical figure.  Despite his legendary status, the historical Arthur likely differed greatly from his literary counterpart.
• The Holy Grail has multiple interpretations.  The meaning and significance of the Grail vary across different versions of the Arthurian legends, with Christian and pagan elements interwoven.
• Joan of Arc’s faith had Celtic influences.  Renan suggests that Joan’s strong belief in personal visions and her connection to nature align with Celtic spirituality.
• The sixth century was a pivotal period for Celtic culture.  This era saw the flourishing of bardic poetry, the development of the Celtic Church, and resistance against outside forces.
• Bardic poetry often reflects the conflict between paganism and Christianity.  The bards, steeped in Celtic traditions, grappled with the rise of the new religion, as evident in their poems.
• Irish monasticism was highly influential in the early Middle Ages.  Irish monks played a significant role in preserving knowledge, spreading Christianity, and shaping intellectual life in Europe.
• The legend of St. Brandan embodies Celtic imagination and love of adventure.  This tale of a monk’s fantastical sea voyage captures the Celtic longing for the unknown and their connection to the natural world.
• The Purgatory of St. Patrick reflects Celtic fascination with the afterlife.  This belief in a physical place where souls could experience purgation after death speaks to the Celtic desire to understand the mysteries beyond the grave.
• Shakespeare was not always considered a classic.  His status as a literary giant was not fully recognized until later periods.
• Moliere was not initially appreciated for his true genius.  Despite his popularity, the depth and complexity of his plays were not fully recognized in his own time.
• Byron’s poetry reflects the struggle of isolated individuality.  His heroes, often solitary and defiant, embody the limitations and despair inherent in a purely individualistic approach to life.
• Goethe’s poetry emphasizes objective observation and aesthetic form.  He focused on capturing the beauty and diversity of the natural world, often detaching himself from social and political concerns.
• Byron and Goethe both contributed to the rise of individualism and the decline of aristocracy.  Through their poetry, they challenged social norms and paved the way for a new era.
• Mazzini believes in a future poetry of humanity.  He envisions a new form of art that will celebrate unity, progress, and the interconnectedness of all people.
• Essay:  A prose composition exploring a particular subject in a personal and often informal style.
• Philosophize:  To engage in deep thought and inquiry about fundamental questions of existence, knowledge, and values.
• Categorical Imperative:  A moral principle in Kant’s philosophy that dictates acting according to maxims that could be universally applied to all rational beings.
• Revelation:  The divine disclosure of truth or knowledge, often through sacred texts or prophetic figures.
• Mabinogion:  A collection of Welsh tales and legends, showcasing the unique characteristics of Celtic imagination and mythology.
• Bard:  A poet, traditionally one reciting epics and associated with a particular oral tradition, as in Celtic cultures.
• Neo-Druidism:  A modern spiritual movement drawing inspiration from ancient Celtic Druidic practices and beliefs.
• Pantheism:  A belief that God is identical with the universe, or that all things are manifestations of a divine force.
• Polytheism:  The belief in or worship of multiple gods.
• Individuality:  The quality or state of being an individual, distinct from others, with unique characteristics and a sense of self.
• Croesus and Solon:  Montaigne uses the story of King Croesus, condemned to death by Cyrus, to illustrate the fleeting nature of fortune and the importance of delaying judgment on happiness until the end of life.
• Scipio and Epaminondas:  Montaigne cites these figures, who gained respect through their noble deaths, to emphasize that the true measure of a person is revealed in their final moments.
• Alexander the Great:  Montaigne references Alexander’s early death at age 33 as an example that even the greatest individuals are subject to the same limitations of life as everyone else.
• The Bees and Honey:  Montaigne uses the analogy of bees gathering nectar from various flowers to create their unique honey to illustrate how individuals can transform knowledge gathered from diverse sources into their own original creations.
• Cymon and Themistocles:  Montaigne points to these figures, who defied expectations and changed significantly throughout their lives, to highlight the difficulty of judging a person’s character in their youth.
• Kilhwch and Olwen:  This Mabinogi, featuring Arthur’s battle against a monstrous boar and the quest for Mabon, exemplifies the fantastical elements, the importance of animals, and the emphasis on adventure in Celtic storytelling.
• St. Kevin and the Swallow:  This legend, where a saint patiently allows a swallow to nest in his hand, showcases the Celtic reverence for nature and their compassionate view of animals.
• Joan of Arc’s visions:  Renan uses Joan’s belief in divine voices and her connection to nature as evidence of the lingering influence of Celtic spirituality in medieval France.
• The Dialogue between Arthur and Eliwlod:  This Neo-Druidic text, where Arthur ultimately recites the Pater Noster, exemplifies the gradual assimilation of Christian ideas into Celtic traditions.
• Byron’s heroes (Cain, Manfred, Corsair):  These characters, driven by powerful emotions, a thirst for freedom, and a sense of isolation, represent Byron’s poetic exploration of subjective individuality and its limitations.

Conclusion:

The collection of essays in “Literary and Philosophical Essays: French, German and Italian” offers a rich tapestry of European thought, spanning centuries and encompassing themes of death, education, friendship, and the nature of art and poetry. Readers will encounter diverse perspectives on fundamental human concerns, presented by some of history’s most influential thinkers. The essays challenge us to examine our own values, beliefs, and understanding of the world, while offering timeless wisdom and insights into the human condition. From Montaigne’s introspective musings on death to Kant’s rigorous ethical framework and beyond, these essays provide a stimulating and rewarding journey for those seeking intellectual and philosophical enrichment.

What is the best quiz for you business?

Quizzes are super effective for lead generation and selling products. Find the best quiz for your business by answering a few questions.

• Intellectual Affairs

The Philosophy of Rapture

Scott McLemee reviews Christopher Hamilton’s Rapture .

By  Scott McLemee

You have / 5 articles left. Sign up for a free account or log in.

Columbia University Press

It may spare potential readers of Christopher Hamilton’s book Rapture ( Columbia University Press ) some confusion to take note of the subject headings for it in the Library of Congress catalog . The first, “Rapture (Christian eschatology),” refers to one of the better-known apocalyptic scenarios, in which the faithful are suddenly transported to heaven before the world succumbs to mayhem on a scale much larger than usual.

The author (a professor of philosophy at King’s College London) mentions belief in “the rapture” just once in the book, in passing—and that is to make clear it is not what he has in mind and will not be discussing the matter at all. Another subject heading given for Hamilton’s book is “Religious awakening—Christianity.” This seems broader, perhaps, but is no less perfectly irrelevant.

At times it proves necessary to read more than the title of a book to have any idea what it is about, and I am afraid this is one of those occasions.

Hamilton is forthright enough about the nature of his topic. “To be enraptured,” he writes early on, “is to be taken out of oneself, lost in an experience, a sight, or whatever, and yet to be returned to oneself unburdened, with a sense of freedom.” No theology is implied. Someone who has passed through a rapturous state might find mystical or devotional language appropriate when trying to talk about it. But most of the figures Hamilton writes about—for example, Friedrich Nietzsche, Werner Herzog, Virginia Woolf and Philippe Petit, who walked across a tightrope stretched between the World Trade Center buildings in 1974—got along without such language.

The author himself identifies with the “broadly humanist” stance that George Orwell stakes out in his essay on Tolstoy and Shakespeare .

“On balance,” Orwell says, “life is suffering, and only the very young or the very foolish imagine otherwise … The [religious] aim is always to get away from the painful struggle of earthly life and find eternal peace in some kind of Heaven or Nirvana. The humanist attitude is that the struggle must continue and that death is the price of life.”

And yet rapture is not precluded. We may be wired for it. Hamilton mentions the sexual embrace as rapture at its most fully absorbing, though not its precondition. The experience of recovering from a period of illness—of finding oneself able and eager to do familiar things once again—can also be rapturous: “I suddenly become attentive to the small things in life,” he writes, “to their irreplaceable value, and then I grasp that these are things that are a source of value in life generally.”

This can feel like a revelation, for as long as it lasts, which is never long enough. (The miraculousness of ordinary existence tends to disappear once it resumes at regular pace.) Rapture is exhilarating, but it reaches deeper into the individual’s experience of the world than a mood can. It is a bolt of lightning that flashes in the murk of everyday life, revealing what is otherwise lost to overfamiliarity.

An artist of great gifts (and the acrobat on a terrifyingly high wire qualifies) seems better suited to grasping and communicating the experience of rapture than most of us—philosophers included, in Hamilton’s judgment. A note of disappointment and exasperation with his discipline runs throughout his essays.

“Philosophy,” he writes, “is in many ways very bad at nourishing the imagination, accepting flights of fancy, of fantasy.” This leaves the profession devitalized, he complains, incapable of conceiving either the philosopher or the layperson as “a whole human being with all that this entails by way of hope, fear, longing, fantasy, blood, sweat, and tears, with a largely obscure and confusing inner life, recalcitrant to improvement and stubborn in its obsessions and desires.”

For Hamilton, the obvious exceptions are Nietzsche and Simone Weil: Their openness to rapture—as a personal experience, but also as a challenge in comprehending the world—makes them artists almost as much as philosophers. Weil in particular is a challenging figure for Hamilton’s project, given the secular and humanist sensibility emphasized above. Weil’s tortuous spiritual path—from Jewish socialist to Catholic not-quite convert, with extremes of self-denial in solidarity with the oppressed—was marked by mystical experiences of compassion, suffering and the love of beauty. (I’ve written more on her here .)

Weil understood her own raptures in theological terms that Hamilton takes seriously without embracing them as his own. (He also avoids psychologizing her beliefs and behavior, which is difficult temptation for the nonbeliever to resist.) The author models his approach on the inventor of the essay as a literary form, Michel de Montaigne, who combined wide-ranging sympathy for the variousness of human life with skeptical irony about our powers of rationalizing our assumptions.

Editors’ Picks

• University of Arizona’s Controversial UAGC Consolidation Moves Forward
• A New Guide for Responsible AI Use in Higher Ed
• Higher Ed Has Questions for Biden and Trump

It makes sense, then, that Hamilton challenges his own predominantly secular outlook with the example of someone whose understanding of the world pushed in a radically opposed direction. Rapture, whatever its metaphysical provenance, “can be a disruptive force,” he writes, “because it is expressive of a certain energy for life. The experience of rapture is that of a hunger for experience, a hunger that can be, even if it need not always be, imperious and demanding.”

The author’s expressed purpose is to open the reader to the possibility of rapture, not as an escape from the world, but to live more fully while here. The book will find readers—by word of mouth, perhaps, since the library catalog won’t be of much help.

Scott McLemee is Inside Higher Ed ’s “Intellectual Affairs” columnist. He was a contributing editor at Lingua Franca magazine and a senior writer at The Chronicle of Higher Education before joining Inside Higher Ed in 2005.

Avoiding Trip Wires

Marisa Quinn has compiled a list of dos and don’ts for newly appointed college and university leaders to consider whi

Share This Article

More from intellectual affairs.

Fall Books Roundup

Scott McLemee looks ahead to forthcoming releases on higher ed, the culture wars and leadership.

Insurrection

Scott McLemee reviews John Rennie Short’s Insurrection: What the January 6 Assault on the Capitol Reveals about A

The Scholar-Magician

Scott McLemee reviews Anthony Grafton’s Magus: The Art of Magic from Faustus to Agrippa .

• Become a Member
• Sign up for Newsletters
• Learning & Assessment
• Diversity & Equity
• Career Development
• Labor & Unionization
• Shared Governance
• Academic Freedom
• Books & Publishing
• Financial Aid
• Residential Life
• Free Speech
• Physical & Mental Health
• Race & Ethnicity
• Sex & Gender
• Socioeconomics
• Traditional-Age
• Adult & Post-Traditional
• Teaching & Learning
• Artificial Intelligence
• Digital Publishing
• Data Analytics
• Administrative Tech
• Alternative Credentials
• Financial Health
• Cost-Cutting
• Revenue Strategies
• Academic Programs
• Physical Campuses
• Mergers & Collaboration
• Fundraising
• Research Universities
• Regional Public Universities
• Community Colleges
• Private Nonprofit Colleges
• Minority-Serving Institutions
• Religious Colleges
• Women's Colleges
• Specialized Colleges
• For-Profit Colleges
• Executive Leadership
• Trustees & Regents
• State Oversight
• Accreditation
• Politics & Elections
• Supreme Court
• Student Aid Policy
• Science & Research Policy
• State Policy
• Colleges & Localities
• Employee Satisfaction
• Remote & Flexible Work
• Staff Issues
• Study Abroad
• International Students in U.S.
• U.S. Colleges in the World
• Seeking a Faculty Job
• Advancing in the Faculty
• Seeking an Administrative Job
• Advancing as an Administrator
• Beyond Transfer
• Call to Action
• Confessions of a Community College Dean
• Higher Ed Gamma
• Higher Ed Policy
• Just Explain It to Me!
• Just Visiting
• Law, Policy—and IT?
• Leadership & StratEDgy
• Leadership in Higher Education
• Learning Innovation
• Online: Trending Now
• Resident Scholar
• University of Venus
• Student Voice
• Academic Life
• Health & Wellness
• The College Experience
• Life After College
• Academic Minute
• Weekly Wisdom
• Reports & Data
• Quick Takes
• Advertising & Marketing
• Consulting Services
• Data & Insights
• Hiring & Jobs
• Event Partnerships

4 /5 Articles remaining this month.

Sign up for a free account or log in.

• Sign Up, It’s FREE

Montesquieu’s Influential Works in Political Philosophy: a Comprehensive Overview

This essay is about Montesquieu, a key figure in political philosophy, and his influential works. It discusses “Persian Letters,” which critiques European society through the eyes of Persian travelers, “Considerations on the Causes of the Grandeur and Decline of the Romans,” which examines the rise and fall of the Roman Empire, and “The Spirit of the Laws,” which explores the separation of powers, checks and balances, and the impact of climate on governance. Montesquieu’s ideas significantly shaped modern political theory and democratic institutions.

How it works

Montesquieu, Charles-louis, what was born, de Secondat in 1689, is a central figure in the kingdom of political philosophy. His works formed understanding of management, rights considerably, and social structures, laying the foundation for a modern political theory. Among his numerous additions, three distinguished for their deep action: “Persian Lists,” “Considerations on Reasons of Grandeur and Worsening of Romans,” and “Spirit of Rights”.

The “Persian Lists” given out in 1721 marked the entrance of Montesquieu to the literary and philosophical stake. But an epistolary short story presented the series of folias, Persian travelers Usbek and Rica mentioned between two, who investigates and European of criticism, especially French, society.

Through their supervisions, Montesquieu offers satiric yet intuitional criticism of cultural and political his discipline of time. The format of short story allowed Montesquieu to appeal to the debatable themes for example despotism, religious intolerance, and absurdities of the European custom in a manner then was how bringing in, so and thought-provoking. Accepting the prospect of outsiders, Montesquieu wisely separated defects and contradictions within the limits of European society, impelling readers to reflect upon their own cultural suppositions and warning.

Following by success of “Persian Folias,” Montesquieu prolonged dug in a historical and political analysis with him 1734 works, “Considerations on Reasons of Grandeur and Worsening of Romans”. This historical treatise investigates an increase and hopeless Roman Empire, providing detailed his account of political, military, and social dynamics. Analysis of Montesquieu opened in his accent on the role of the external influences set and in forming of fate of civilization. He denied, that, Roman success is not straight the result of individual guidance or military able but was also influenced his political establishments and his virtues of citizens.

From other side, a decline an empire was ascribed to erosion of these virtues and his corruption of establishment. Work of Montesquieu underlined importance of moral and civil virtue in support of proof and arriving at success of society, theme that would philosophize during his later Montesquieu of opus of winy large bottle, “Spirit of Rights,” published in 1748, – presumably his most influential work. This all-round treatise investigates mutual relations between rights, society, and by a management, offering the detailed analysis of the different political systems and their main principles. Montesquieu it is known articulated the theory of department of plenary powers, denies, that separation of government in the expressive specialist of branch, legislative, and substantial s?dowy-by?, to prevent tyranny and freedom of guarantee. This principle became the native stones of modern democratic management, deeply influencing on development of constitutional legal and political theory.

In “The Spirit of the Laws,” Montesquieu also introduced the concept of climate theory, suggesting that the climate and geography of a region could influence the temperament and customs of its inhabitants, and consequently, its political and legal institutions. While this idea has been met with criticism and skepticism over time, it reflects Montesquieu’s broader attempt to understand the complex interplay between environment, culture, and governance.

Moreover, Montesquieu’s emphasis on the importance of checks and balances within government systems has had a lasting impact on the development of democratic institutions worldwide. His ideas were particularly influential in the drafting of the United States Constitution, where the separation of powers and the system of checks and balances were explicitly incorporated to prevent the concentration of power and protect individual liberties.

In addition to his political writings, Montesquieu’s contributions to social theory and cultural criticism have also left an enduring legacy. His works offer a nuanced and critical perspective on the relationship between society, law, and governance, highlighting the importance of cultural and historical context in shaping political institutions and practices.

In conclusion, Montesquieu’s writings have had a profound and lasting impact on political philosophy and the development of modern democratic institutions. His works, including “Persian Letters,” “Considerations on the Causes of the Grandeur and Declension of the Romans,” and “The Spirit of the Laws,” offer insightful analyses of the cultural, historical, and environmental factors that shape governance and law. Montesquieu’s ideas on the separation of powers, checks and balances, and the influence of climate and geography continue to resonate in contemporary political thought, underscoring the enduring relevance of his contributions to the field.

Cite this page

Montesquieu's Influential Works in Political Philosophy: A Comprehensive Overview. (2024, Jun 28). Retrieved from https://papersowl.com/examples/montesquieus-influential-works-in-political-philosophy-a-comprehensive-overview/

"Montesquieu's Influential Works in Political Philosophy: A Comprehensive Overview." PapersOwl.com , 28 Jun 2024, https://papersowl.com/examples/montesquieus-influential-works-in-political-philosophy-a-comprehensive-overview/

PapersOwl.com. (2024). Montesquieu's Influential Works in Political Philosophy: A Comprehensive Overview . [Online]. Available at: https://papersowl.com/examples/montesquieus-influential-works-in-political-philosophy-a-comprehensive-overview/ [Accessed: 29 Jun. 2024]

"Montesquieu's Influential Works in Political Philosophy: A Comprehensive Overview." PapersOwl.com, Jun 28, 2024. Accessed June 29, 2024. https://papersowl.com/examples/montesquieus-influential-works-in-political-philosophy-a-comprehensive-overview/

"Montesquieu's Influential Works in Political Philosophy: A Comprehensive Overview," PapersOwl.com , 28-Jun-2024. [Online]. Available: https://papersowl.com/examples/montesquieus-influential-works-in-political-philosophy-a-comprehensive-overview/. [Accessed: 29-Jun-2024]

PapersOwl.com. (2024). Montesquieu's Influential Works in Political Philosophy: A Comprehensive Overview . [Online]. Available at: https://papersowl.com/examples/montesquieus-influential-works-in-political-philosophy-a-comprehensive-overview/ [Accessed: 29-Jun-2024]

Don't let plagiarism ruin your grade

Hire a writer to get a unique paper crafted to your needs.

Our writers will help you fix any mistakes and get an A+!

Please check your inbox.

You can order an original essay written according to your instructions.

Trusted by over 1 million students worldwide

1. Tell Us Your Requirements

2. Pick your perfect writer

3. Get Your Paper and Pay

Hi! I'm Amy, your personal assistant!

Don't know where to start? Give me your paper requirements and I connect you to an academic expert.

short deadlines

100% Plagiarism-Free

Certified writers

Who are the Bearers of Tort Law’s Duties?

UCLA School of Law, Public Law Research Paper ; Law & Philosophy, Forthcoming

21 Pages Posted: 27 Jun 2024

Rebecca Stone

University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) - School of Law

Date Written: June 26, 2024

Like corrective justice theorists, Gregory Keating contends that tort law is centrally concerned with the vindication of individual rights. Like economic theorists, he rejects the idea that individual injurers are the inevitable site of tort duties. While some tort doctrines instantiate relational rights and duties, others instantiate collective duties to potential victims. There is thus a deep continuity between tort law and administrative law according to Keating. Is such a conception of tort law compatible with a principled commitment to deontological morality or will it inevitably devolve into a utilitarianism of rights where tort rights and duties are merely instrumentally justified as mechanisms for the protection of individual rights against harm? I will argue that at least some of the institutional heterogeneity that Keating highlights and defends can be a principled entailment of deontological theorizing, if we move away from an understanding of torts as wrongs to a view of tort law as a site of deliberation about what justice between the parties requires in the face of normative uncertainty about justice.

Keywords: tort law, rights, corrective justice, strict liability, administrative law

Suggested Citation: Suggested Citation

Rebecca Stone (Contact Author)

University of california, los angeles (ucla) - school of law ( email ).

385 Charles E. Young Dr. East Room 1242 Los Angeles, CA 90095-1476 United States

Do you have a job opening that you would like to promote on SSRN?

Paper statistics, related ejournals, university of california, los angeles school of law, public law & legal theory research paper series.

Subscribe to this free journal for more curated articles on this topic

Jurisprudence & Legal Philosophy eJournal

Subscribe to this fee journal for more curated articles on this topic

U.S. Administrative Law eJournal

Law & society: civil procedure ejournal, torts & product liability law ejournal, philosophy of law ejournal, law & society: private law - torts ejournal.

Jump to navigation

CULTURE AND DIALOGUE JOURNAL: PHILOSOPHY AND ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE

Culture and Dialogue provides a forum for researchers from philosophy as well as other disciplines who study cultural formations dialogically, through comparative analysis, or within the tradition of hermeneutics. The journal publishes one volume of two issues each year. One issue welcomes manuscripts that consider the broad theme of “culture and dialogue” in all its forms, from all perspectives, and through all methods. The other issue is thematic and seeks to bring manuscripts together with a common denominator such as “Philosophy and the Dialogue,” “Art in Conversation,” “Comparing Cultures,” or “Dialogical Ethics.” The theme of the thematic issue is announced through dedicated calls for papers.

The journal seeks submissions on the philosophy of Artificial Intelligence. Among relevant topics are:

The nature of AI

Computational Theory of Mind

Strong and Weak AI

Ethics of AI and robotics

Surveillance and privacy

Bias in decision systems

Machine Ethics

Consciousness

Catastrophism

Human/robot interaction and dialogue

AI and philosophy of economics (employment, automation)

AI and philosophy of education (teaching, learning)

AI, art and aesthetics

Non-western philosophical perspectives on AI

Cultural and dialogical aspects

AI and science-fiction

The future of AI 

Essays should normally be between 5,000 and 10,000 words in length and written according to the specifications of The Chicago Manual of Style. The deadline for submissions is 15 September 2024.Please submit prospective papers via our submission portal: https://www.editorialmanager.com/cadbrill/default.aspx

All information can be found at: https://brill.com/CAD

Flyer:  https://pdflink.to/9b2258b1/