Montaigne: Selected Essays

“I am myself the subject of my book […]” 

Montaigne’s essays are an inquiry into the workings of his own mind and heart. He freely admits that such a project is self-centered, and he invites us to read his words only if they seem useful to us as well.

“It is not certain where Death awaits us, so let us await it everywhere.” 

It is better to confront death directly than to shy away from it and, living in fear, allow it to steal our lives before our time. This runs counter to how many modern Americans live their day-to-day lives. 

“Only fools are certain and unshakable.” 

What we believe is arbitrary, but what we know comes from experience. It is not enough to parrot knowledge; it is more important to understand it, to doubt and ponder it—knowing that nothing is certain, even the pronouncements of the great teachers—and then, with newfound perspective, to make it one’s own. 

“I find that the front-row seats are commonly taken over by the least able men, and great fortune is hardly ever related to competence.” 

Wealth is often inherited, especially during Montaigne’s era, and thus is not a direct result of merit. The intelligent and well-educated often possess an inner confidence that doesn’t need to be displayed, unlike those who have little to show for themselves beyond money.

“I have read a hundred things in Livy that others have not read. Plutarch read a hundred of them there beyond what I have, and perhaps in addition to what the author put there.” 

When studying a great passage, we may notice implications the writer never intended. This is a good sign that our perspective has grown larger.

“In Plutarch there are many extended passages that are most worthy of being known, for in my opinion he is a master of such work; but there are a thousand of them that he only barely touched upon; he only points his finger toward where we will go if we like, and he is sometimes content just to give a quick thrust into the heart of a topic.” 

Montaigne argues for the virtues of studying a great author such as Plutarch, whose casually tossed-off comments are themselves brimming with implications for further thought and study. Montaigne’s own essays follow the same pattern: he invites the reader to ponder his pithy sentences for deeper meaning. In this way, Montaigne behaves like his ideal tutor, pointing out things to the reader-as-student and gently urging further reflection.

“Those whose body is lean fatten it with padding; those whose matter is slim inflate it with words.” 

Much as we wear clothes we hope will flatter us but sometimes make us look silly, we use extra words that we believe will give our speech an impressive sheen but instead often come across as needlessly verbose. A wise speaker knows that simple and concise words are more effective.

“To a man on whose head hail falls, the entire hemisphere seems full of raging storms.” 

Our misfortunes can seem to cover the Earth even as other people are actually doing just fine. We don’t see our place in the larger world; our perspective is limited by self-centered myopia.

“[…] [P]hilosophy […] has the privilege of being involved in everything.” 

Philosophy—what we can know, how we should live—is basic to all knowledge, as it sets the guidelines for the search for truth. It is fundamental to the arts, as it establishes the rules of esthetics. It is basic to all activities, as it provides the ground rules for behavior. Thus, philosophy should be an honored guest anywhere people meet to have lively discussions.

“Were I to be pressed to say why I loved him, I feel that it can be expressed only by replying, ‘Because it was he, because it was I.’” 

This is one of Montaigne’s more noted sayings, which tries to describe his relationship with Étienne de la Boétie and the perfection of a friendship so unique that it can’t easily be explained. Theirs was a one-in-a-million match.

“We reach for everything, but we grasp only the wind.” 

Montaigne refers to a daring French outpost in Brazil near Rio de Janeiro that was destroyed by the Portuguese. There is a thin line between audaciousness and ambition, and when our reach exceeds our grasp, we may lose all but the adventure of having tried. 

“For a man may have some special knowledge or experience of the nature of a river or a fountain, and know only what everyone else knows about the rest. He will undertake nevertheless to write about all of physics, to make the most of his little patch of it.” 

People with special knowledge or skills sometimes behave as if they’re experts in everything. Celebrities lecture us on politics; sports stars declaim about society; scientists instruct us in the arts.

“It is not right for art to gain the place of honor over our great, powerful mother Nature. We have so overburdened the beauty and richness of her works with our inventions that we have completely stifled her.” 

Montaigne laments the loss of natural things under the hand of human cultivation. Our carefully-cultivated fruits and vegetables, for instance, often pale against the more delicious wild types. Civilization, for all its benefits, struggles to compete with the ingenuity of Nature herself.

“It does not seem enough to him to have rid himself of vices if he still has to deal with those of others.” 

Once we have gotten over the yearning for the glory that a public life can bring, if we continue to serve in office, we still must navigate the same greedy ambition in others. It’s better, perhaps, to be rid of it all and retire to a life of contemplation.

“One’s bearing, expression, voice, dress, and attitude can enhance the value of things that have little of it in and of themselves, such as chatter.” 

Montaigne suggests that how people express themselves improves what they have to say, even if it is blather. Sometimes a lovely tune hides inane lyrics, and a bad movie can seem better because of its beautiful music score.

“Since I cannot control events, I take control of myself and suit myself to them, if they do not suit me.” 

Seneca and the Stoics have a great influence on Montaigne, who practices their form of resignation—adapting to life rather than resisting it—which saves him the trouble of trying to manage things. 

“I act like a man when things happen to me, but like a child when I have to control them.” 

Montaigne knows how to face misfortune, but decisions make him dither with worry. He much prefers to have events taken out of his hands; he would rather know how things are, even if they are difficult, than wonder what choice he must make.

“One must not always tell all, for that would be foolish. But what one says must be what one thinks, or else it is wickedness.” 

There is a difference between lying and keeping a secret. A secret may be honorably kept, but a lie needs many excuses to exonerate itself.

“It is quite easy to accuse a government of imperfection—all mortal things are filled with it; it is quite easy to inspire in a people disdain for their traditional customs. No man who ever tried to do so has not managed to; but when it came to setting up a better state in place of the one they overthrew, many who tried have gone astray.” 

Montaigne knows full well that the rebellions of the late Roman Republic led directly to a dictatorship, and that recent religious strife in his own time has brought pain and death but no resolution. His comment is farsighted, as revolts in later centuries often shed blood to no good result.

“If people complain that I talk too much of myself, I complain that they do not even think about themselves.” 

Montaigne’s experiment is novel in that he dares to be publicly self-involved. His purpose is to learn and to assuage his curiosity, and he believes that what he discovers may also benefit his readers. He would recommend that everyone attempt to “know thyself,” as Socrates said, even if many people think that improper.

“The more simply we trust ourselves to Nature, the more wisely we do so.” 

Montaigne believes not in the arts and sciences but in the wisdom of the natural world. If people simply listen to their instincts and act naturally, they will do much better than from following learned men’s prescriptions. 

“Intemperance is the bane of pleasure; temperance is not its scourge, it is its seasoning.” 

It is easy to live in extremes and to suffer from them but harder to walk a middle path. Temperance, far from denying pleasure, moderates it to avoid the pain of overdoing things. The point is to be human and enjoy life without the morning-after headache.

“Is it not mistaken to deem some actions less worthy because they are necessary?” 

Montaigne responds to philosophers who disdain the everyday practicalities of life, as if they were inferior to thinking great thoughts or doing great deeds. He believes that Nature wisely made our small needs pleasurable so that we would attend to them and thereby sustain ourselves.