atic affirmation: “Ig étre a sot.”* Neither e of blood nor talent olely the degree to onality and to live igne the dialogue art to be attained: gin with the one y meee it betterMONTAIGNE man must feel no obligation or con- ing, and yet we are all connected to the ity, the family; our thoughts are subject e speak, making the isolated man, the a phantom. It is impossible to live sly or unconsciously, our education morals, religion and a perceived our breath is the air of the epoch f from all of that is inconceivable. ll too well, he who during his life the state, to family, to society, east on the exterior, faithful to reli- ymitted to the required devotions. imself, nothing less than to find must “conserve the freedom it, except on those rare it the right path”. We do not ym the world, to wall ourselves d to make a distinction: we e cannot “form a marriage own selves. Montaigne does to passions or lust. On themoney, whoever loys n entirely. But the mos, much as brings yoy ngs: “In the home, at of activity, one should of enjoyment, but not gins to encroach.” impelled by a sense ked ambition, to 9 one should endlessly and not overestimate yjoyment stops. One mind, not beco™ explicit instruction how hard he tries! hhim down, ba"? je mittor pride, these perhaps the gravest m presumption. fear and hope, belief and supersti- convictions and parties. s: “Custom clouds the true face nbitions and all forms of avarice: 1e most futile of all, the most value- known to man.” \d familiar surroundings. :: “Bach country imagines it alone To be free of possessiveness, summit of all things. To stand . her masters. We lend things face of death. Life hangs death on our own will: “La belle.”estimaby he countenanceq Was of bout life, however itcame: ture, not even uselessneg, e exists without having a e loves ugliness, for jt because it underscores : ne. All is good, and est man’s utterance open to fools and loves a soul which isMONTAIGNE stand in the way of free nothing more than of those dictators of dom, and “la fiense the spirit wh 10 le arrogance and vanity to impose on ad tidings” as the sole and indisput- whom the blood of hundreds of is as nothing in the fanatical pursuit "s attitude in the face of life, Ts it comes back to tolerance. of thought for himself rec- yr all men, and no one respected fontaigne. He does not recoil those native Brazilians he se they eat human beings. that he finds that of less nt, torture and martyrdom o belief, no opinion that he his judgement is unclouded by to this communal error of the way I perceive things.” e force, violence and brut and desensitize the soul.. But the human s of fanaticism, in am, of the Chambre always possible for moment of all of spirit and the a Castellio. And s, the counsellors, ins proclaim: “We flontaigne is: “What erine wheel and sir “This is how yo" own thoughts me blindly, be ours all freedo™ Oel de Montaigne retires to his tower, as reached its final consummation. r, he had seen with an all too of everything: “the wantonness ies, the debasement of grace and politics, the monotonous tedium ove all his own ineffectualness in ed to help, but they were indifferent vays with the pride and bearing own worth he struggled on to ‘0 pacify the fanatics, though they Year on year the epoch becomes the country is in turmoil, the sees the blood flow once more. akes the il war comes. So he t jled in the melee, not to let any more. He no longer wishes ‘wants to reflect on his own selfa camera obscura, He hag others strain for eminent celebrity, he labours himself in his tower, jousand books between r es, still, he leaves his of St Michael he attends he applies himself to political mediation determined not to ent, to see the battle ‘like that of Plataea. a public appearance; t to receive any more world is himself. He ories, assemble a few ind patiently await | say to ourselves i? = never mind the anything Foc® be saved. Build @ in the deluge" your own wort:mes the year 1580. For ten years, he questered in his tower, cut off from the es that this is how he will end his e realizes his error, or rather his errors, always a man to recognize errors. ieve himself old at thirty-eight, to or death prematurely and to inter pat forty-eight, he notes with surprise not declined, that on the contrary his thought is more illumined, =, more voracious, more eager. He ll so early, close the book of life page. It was a beautiful thing id an idle hour in Greece with our of Seneca’s wisdom, it was live alongside these companions s, with the greatest minds of in one’s own century, for better ‘of the time penetrates into even pace, especially when it is a restive tuous time. We the soul cannot roar. ressive, tempes n when closed in, hen the world beyond is in uP : fAindows we reccive the tremors °v 0 ment’s respite, but You n the world. h Montaigne realion, by deserting the ficial business, for the ily; but he is soon one set of bonds for to root himself in and tendrils climb worry gnaw at the has appropriated not helped. When fields white with jill be spoilt. When sf bickering voices he will have to out problems; pns morph into minor difficulties, He to jettison them all: “It would be easy for everything.” But so long as you remain ou cannot get clear. ontaigne is no Diogenes. He loves his , his noble title, and always carries his inward calm, a little gold coffer. ertain pleasure in mastering something, st a barn, to remain obedient beneath end it proves too languid a pleasure mes tainted by petty vexations.” He but now he has to get embroiled in ple, enter into a lawsuit with his or repair job in the chateau turns commands that he have done with jalities. But, as each of us knows, owner you remain attached to it attaches itself to you with a ys, and only one thing can save us: rms everything, Only exterior terior distance: “When away, Iam and would feel less on hearing er than I do now at the newsar, following the him the “humew h his characteristic sons for returning routines, and ®it ect honour, € pleasures» Be ton; he has never res, age had never been a union of love, tual”, and he had condemned love our of the “intellectual” on numer- ing that he was only submitting centuries he was condemned for in championing the right of the the man of transformati or conformable pleasu for this reason a number of biog- the paternity of his last children. be supposition, though after several what he says tends to ring true: “I generally put off expressing their ti ve thoughts about their husbands until ed. Our life is marred bickering inded by love and ministrations.” He “There are few idowhood, lie.” g scabrous words: does not improve in wi not know how to srates couldbear to see him ty, ” When by chance he at pains to add the drol) litude had been a con- far enough, and fossilized, become railed his whole it was Montaigne. s to the creative he recognized that opportune ume put everything If without you"Out, now he cg ; an He has rooted himself, now he can . Anew Stage of his life begins. On it the age of forty-eight, following a posed retreat—Montaigne had never ‘obey his own will—he embarks ona tend, a journey made for the simple er still for the love of the pleasure his travels had always been, in , on the order of the parliament, personal business. These were nents; this time it’s a real journey, the eternal: finding oneself. He no real idea what he will see, 0” - want to know in advance; and , he contentedly replies: “Ifor abroad, but Toy set in stone, and Now he it, and the more differen, happy to remain by the ith this futile Testriction, he ts him, only from inside rvest. Nothing enraptures avel as the fact that all the sky, the customs , the cuisine, the streets is learning, comparing. emonstrates the peren- nd I know no better en, than that which become the art of life elf, and through" yy 10 example of ho’ tinct. As a travels eeain him, eve"avelling, rather than Merely to travel " : el, ichel Eo Montaigne in Bordeaux does din moving on. When he thinks ing en route, he takes to the road down to anything, not to plan comes an obsession. Even the idea the road is heading can sometimes sure on him: pleasure in travelling that even nation to a prearranged destina- nt to me and I thought of the my own ease. osities, because all that was eemed equally curious to him. known, he area was well use too many othersfrom the start, becaus, ees Secretary Notes to say, had he selfignj, uld far rather have gone wed the tour to Ital s the same: the mee it is; even when he or is made to wait, a place, that the do not fret about , because at least I in fact not true. 5 is a disappointment. grin is an equally one nation over every custo” the dishes a"MONTAIGNE, wood, or earthenware, the food boiled buttered or in olive oil, hot or cold, it’s ne to me. tic is ashamed of his fellow countrymen, or of thinking that, Parrot-like, they criticizing all foreign customs as soon as es beyond their village, outside their When abroad Montaigne wants gn—“Not to seek out other Gascons in ough of them at home)”—he wants ttriots, whom anyway he knows inside j without prejudgement. Among Montaigne teaches us how one ou can sense it in the reply that ly seek to hold back this impetuous at home. “What will happen if they demand of him. 5 truth for three years from the ca in those times, the Pr a. a and an unbalancedfor Months But Montaigne, who urn to the right; if halt... did I miss Tturn around and ‘way I travel. response when oreign land. If he d hardly set foo till less go beyond the Be inthe end than in bed. to his fate. de Montaist® Bom bey? 4 AE, 4 few com choice h*ther a happy one: these com esti ce 'panions, i not among the best, but for y were forced to endure the strange and on the part of Montaigne “de visiter This is not quite the departure of a a handsome train. The vital thing judgements, refrain from arrogance s first to Paris, the city which Montaigne red and which still enchants him. A few have preceded him, but he carries es, to present to the king. In truth ot have much taste for this sort of stomed to war. But as everyone at and is charmed by it, he too reads igne to be present at the siege of s, Philibert, Comte de Gramont, is | He accompanies the corpse s his remarkable journal on 5th a strange coincidence, Goethe's d official, and Montaigne’s father,both began and brough, Montaigne, the son of e tradition, as later wil] the secretary makes a no. ney to Rome, where e saddle. There, obeying as possible into the s the journal himself, ‘talian, until the day ich frontier: “Here abandon this foreign this journey from lombiéres, where ten-day cure, strives le, Schaffhausen, d the Tyrol, then and, from there, » Admittedly thes’ auch as Montag”? tiful portrait asa Particularly precious a asure—and who knew this better observe a prudent man in his folly 0 despises all ceremony, in his vanity. , things turn out well. Montaigne is d curiosity gets him through his f forty-eight years, who jokes end- se”,” outstrips the younger men At an early hour, he saddles up more than a crust of bread, sets to him: the sedan chair, the e coach, the saddle, even going yy inns provide amusement yatherss the circumcision of ‘Bagni di Lucca, invites with all the lazzarones, sites. For him all that the advantage over | Winckelmann, who the notion that / history of art. It °s in Switzerland and He attends the him. He holds long es, who respectiully of his book andne, as formerly in Venice: in aay ls and peculiarities have more Piuttintie, the Sistine Chapel or the cathedral outhful vigour seems to have touched its natural path. He seems to have se ladies a good part of the gold he m in the coffer; their conversation, as he es in the end far more costly than his journey is mostly wasted due to at the Bagni di Lucca, a barbaric physicians drives him to invent a in all things, he desires to be his own ns afflict him, to which are added and headaches. At one point he @ this cure, news reaches him ave put him in better spirits. oe ave elected him mayor of their ising nomination, for eleven years 1¢ had resigned all functions as @ tthe still youthful glory of his a ¢ of Bordeaux to placewas trying to draw the case, he returns s wife once more in ce of seventeen months 581 a little younger, vital than ever. Two