Essays of Michel de Montaigne — Volume 02 — Text and Context

The Will as the Only Bond

In Chapter VII, Montaigne argues that we are masters of nothing but the will; effect and performance lie beyond our power. He cites Count Egmont, who begged to die first so that death might discharge his promise to Count Horn. Montaigne dissects this: Egmont's will remained indebted even if he could not perform. The King of England, by contrast, broke faith deliberately, deferring infidelity until after death—no excuse. The mason in Herodotus kept his master's treasure secret for life, then told his children. Montaigne insists that penitence requires penalty; a deathbed restitution without personal cost is hollow. He reserves his sharpest words for those who conceal hatred until the last gasp, calling them unjust judges who defer judgment to a time when they can have no knowledge of the cause.

Idle Minds and Wild Fancies

Chapter VIII, Of Idleness, compares an untilled mind to a fallow ground overgrown with weeds, or to a woman who without knowledge of man brings forth formless lumps of flesh. Montaigne describes his own experience: after retiring from public duties, he hoped his mind would grow wiser with leisure. Instead, it ran wild, producing chimeras and monstrous fancies—like a horse that breaks from its rider and bolts. He quotes Horace and Lucan to evoke the restless imagination that flits everywhere, striking the roof beams. The essay is brief but vivid, a self-portrait of a thinker who finds that idleness does not breed tranquility but a swarm of extravagant thoughts that need restraint through study.

Parley, Promise, and the Hour of Danger

Chapters V and VI examine the risks of parley during a siege. Montaigne notes that the hour of parley is dangerous because the enemy may use it to gain advantage. He cites examples where a parley led to a surprise attack or a breach of faith. The discussion is tightly woven with historical anecdotes: the Duke of Alva's execution of Counts Horn and Egmont, the King of England's conditional promise to Philip, and the mason's deathbed revelation. Montaigne does not offer a simple rule; he weighs circumstances. The governor who goes out to parley may be captured; the promise made under duress may be void. Yet the will remains the seat of obligation. These chapters show Montaigne's method at its most forensic: testing general principles against particular cases, never letting the reader settle into easy certainty.

This volume of Montaigne's essays rewards a reader who enjoys watching a mind work through contradictions. The essays are short, but each is dense with examples drawn from Plutarch, Herodotus, and contemporary history. Montaigne does not preach; he presents, compares, and often leaves the judgment to you. Pay attention to the way he circles back to the same problem from different angles—the same end reached by various ways, indeed.

I have often turned to Montaigne’s second volume, where he writes of how our own fancies can bind us tighter than any oath, and I find myself thinking of another old companion on the shelf, A Cynic Looks at Life — Themes and Context. That one, too, knows the quiet mischief of an idle mind, the same patient, wry understanding of our self-made chains, holding together like two worn bookmarks in a shared silence.