When I Am Playing With My Cat, How Do I Know That She Is Not Playing With Me? Part 7

Self-knowledge is thus tied up with our knowledge of other people: through it we gain a glimpse of 'the universal pattern of the human', that which is common to us all.

But perhaps the true consequences of Montaigne's sense of the interrelatedness of ourselves are suggested by his essay 'Of Cruelty', which immediately precedes his 'Apology for Raymond Sebond'. The essay starts by asking what is the conventional definition of virtue: the answer being that which requires 'difficulty and struggle', particularly in the withstanding of the pleasures of the body by the soul. In this sense we might say G.o.d is just, all-powerful, but we would not call him virtuous: his justice and goodness are dispensed at his ease. But for humans, virtue 'refuses ease for a companion', preferring the rough and th.o.r.n.y road to the mild and gentle path.

Montaigne then stops himself in his tracks and says: 'I have come this far without any trouble', but then asks whether this 'difficult' virtue is true of the finest souls, such as Socrates, who seemed to be endowed with a 'simple and affable nature' and with an instinctive distaste for evil. And then Montaigne turns to himself, for what he sees as his main virtue his hatred of cruelty is not something that he arrives at by reason, but simply arises in him instinctively: The good that is in me...is in me by the chance of my birth...Amongst other vices I cruelly hate cruelty, both by nature and by judgement, as the most extreme of all the vices. But it is to a point of such softness that I cannot see a chicken's neck twisted without being distressed, and I cannot bear to hear the crying of a hare between the teeth of my dogs, even though the chase is a violent pleasure.

But this empathy is not reserved for animals, but is part of his sympathetic nature more generally: 'I am very tenderly compa.s.sionate for the afflictions of others.' In Basel he sees a poor man's little boy being operated on for a rupture, and, he records, 'being handled very roughly by the surgeon'. He cannot watch executions 'no matter how just they may be' without blinking. He pities the dying more than the dead, and is easily moved to tears. But what is important about Montaigne's confession of unmanly 'softness' is that it is not based on an idea of justice, or liberality, but simply arises from his proxemic and behavioural response to the punishment of others. Irrespective of how 'just' an execution may be, it is the process process of it that he finds upsetting. And in a final addition to the of it that he finds upsetting. And in a final addition to the Essays Essays, he confesses that 'nothing provokes my tears except tears, and not only those that are genuine, but whatever their kind, whether feigned or painted'. It is for this reason that tragedy moves us: the lamentations of Dido and Ariadne affect us even though we do no believe in them: 'It is a sign of a harsh and unyielding nature to feel no emotion at such things.' It is not the beliefs or the circ.u.mstances behind grief that upsets him, but the witnessing of grief itself.

Montaigne's response to cruelty is important because, as he says, he lives 'in a time when we abound in incredible examples of this vice'. But this has not, he says, 'by any means habituated me to it'. Returning to animals, he says that the spectacle of the stag, bloodied, breathless and exhausted, surrendering itself to his pursuers 'has always affected me most unpleasantly'. He says he hardly ever catches an animal alive without returning it to the fields, and tells how Pythagoras would buy fish and birds from their vendors in order to do the same. What is important here is that Montaigne offers no higher theoretical arguments in support of his sympathy: it not the thought that the animal necessarily has sentience or sensation, or rights, but rather the 'piteous cry' of the animal that affects him: 'These are the foundations of our grief.'

One might conclude from this that Montaigne's morality is merely a liberal one, lamenting man's innate cruelty but offering no real answer to how to live our lives. But this sense of the beholdenness of ourselves to others (and also of others' beholdenness to ourselves) reaches a climax in his penultimate essay, 'Of Physiognomy', in which he faces up to and faces down the unfaithful cruelty of the age in which he lives.

The essay is in part a meditation on the power of beauty 'a quality that grants power and advantage' but more deeply a demonstration of Montaigne's insight that 'there is nothing so unsociable and sociable as man: the one by his vice, the other by his nature' that is to say, human relations are not abstract, but visible, tangible things. And by way of ill.u.s.tration he tells how during the civil wars a neighbour attempted to seize his house. Despite its vulnerable location, and unlike his father, Montaigne added no fortifications to it, making an attack on it 'a cowardly and treacherous business...it is not shut to anyone that knocks'. Its only sentinel was an aged porter, 'whose function is not so much to defend his door as to offer it with more grace and decorum'. And it was this unguardedness, this trusting nature, that a neighbour planned to turn to his own advantage: A person once made a plan to seize my house and myself. His scheme was to arrive alone at my door and urgently request to be let in. I knew him by name and had reason to trust him as a neighbour, and to some extent an ally. I had the doors opened to him, as I do to everyone. Here he was completely terrified, his horse out of breath and all exhausted. He entertained me with this fable: that he had just met with an enemy of his half a league away...I tried naively to comfort, rea.s.sure and refresh him. Soon after, four or five of his soldiers arrived, with the same bearing and fright, in order to come in; and then more and more after them, well equipped and well armed, until there were twenty-five or thirty, pretending to have the enemy at their heels. This mystery was beginning to arouse my suspicion. I was not ignorant in what sort of age I was living, how my house might be envied, and knew several examples of others of my acquaintance who had suffered the same misadventure. However, thinking that there was nothing to be gained in having begun to be pleasant without going through with it, and being unable to disentangle myself without ruining everything, I abandoned myself to the most natural and simple course, as I do always, and gave orders for them to be let in...These men stayed on horseback in my courtyard, the leader with me in my living room, who had not wanted to have his horse stabled, saying that he had to return as soon as he had news of his men. He saw himself master of this enterprise, and nothing now remained but its execution. He has often said to me since, for he was not afraid to tell this story, that my face and my frankness had wrestled the treachery from him. He remounted his horse, his men keeping their eyes on him for some signal he might give them, very astonished to see him leave and abandon his advantage.

And then Montaigne relates a similar incident, when he was ambushed by a band of masked men in the forest of Villebois whilst on his way to Paris in 1588, his strongbox seized, his servants and horses divided up. But then whilst he was being led off to a distance of 'two or three musket shots', Montaigne obviously fearing the worst, a sudden and altogether unexpected change came over them. I saw the leader returning to me with gentler language, going to the trouble of searching for my scattered articles among his men...even my strongbox...The most conspicuous of them, who took off his mask and let me know his name, repeated to me several times that I owed this deliverance to my face, and the liberty and firmness of my speech, which showed that I did not deserve such misfortune, and he asked me to a.s.sure him of similar treatment.

What foils his neighbour's coup and the attempt to rob him is the simple, open power of Montaigne's face. It is this and the 'freedom and firmness' of his speech that delivers him. He is saved not by their mercy, but by his own honesty in the latter instance he says that 'I openly confessed to them at the beginning to what party I belonged and what road I was taking'. And it is this that precipitates a matching honesty in his a.s.sailant: he 'took off his mask and let me know his name'. Moreover, his erstwhile enemy then becomes his ally, forewarning him of another ambush that would have befallen him the next day, and asking Montaigne to a.s.sure him of 'similar treatment' if the tables were turned.

'If my face did not answer for me,' observes Montaigne, 'if men did not read the innocence of my intention in my eyes and in my voice, I should not have survived so long without quarrels and without offence.' Our conduct and our demeanour go before us, and exert a power over others. Moreover, in this cynical, sceptical, Machiavellian age, where all appearances are to be mistrusted, Montaigne attempts to show that in the primal scene of knowledge a man meeting another man certain values still inhere: 'Pure naturalness and truth, in whatever age, still find an opportunity and an opening.' 'The face may offer a weak security, but it counts for something all the same.' Appearances may sometimes be deceptive, but as Montaigne says elsewhere: 'there is nothing useless in Nature, not even uselessness itself'. His unwillingness to appear inhospitable and uncharitable to his a.s.sailant compels his a.s.sailant to do the same; in Montaigne's phraseology, it 'wrestles' the treachery from his hands. We may mistrust, but we cannot totally relinquish our beholdenness to the carriage and gesture of others. And it is through our gestures and the 'freedom and firmness' of our speech that this trust is to be re-affirmed.

Montaigne's anecdote about his house thus offers an alternative foundation to that provided by Descartes: where truth, or more importantly trust, is re-established, not through an escape from others into a rarefied form of reason, but through a closer rea.s.sertion of morality, man-to-man. Vice thrives on distance: Montaigne quotes Lucretius on the callous pleasure of seeing someone far from sh.o.r.e, struggling against the storm. And in Rome he notes that the brotherhood of 'gentlemen and prominent people' that accompany public executions hide themselves behind white linen masks. And these distances are augmented by the artificial distances of money, religion and power: Alexander has Betis' heels pierced and him dragged through the streets; he doesn't do it himself.

And in his essays more generally, Montaigne explores the power of human presence in moral life. He tells how Augustus, learning of Cinna's conspiracy, had him brought before him, placed in a chair provided for him, and then told him his knowledge of the conspiracy, only to then forgive him, asking: 'Let us see whether I have shown better faith in sparing your life or you in receiving it.' Alexander, receiving a letter informing him that Philip, his physician, had been paid by Darius to poison him, had Philip similarly brought before him, and made to read the letter, whilst drinking down the medicine that Philip had prepared. Caesar registered shock at Pompey's death, not in being told of it, but only when he was presented with his head.

For Montaigne, human proximity is thus at the heart of morality: 'to enter a breach, conduct an emba.s.sy, govern a people' are commonly praised, and piety is easily faked: 'Its essence is abstract and hidden; its forms easy and ceremonial.' But 'to hold pleasant and reasonable conversation with oneself and one's family, to not let go of oneself or be false to oneself, this is rarer and more difficult to achieve'; 'Few men have been admired by their own household.' But such proximity is also the basis of happiness itself: 'the recognition of our parents, our children and our friends'. And, more generally, Montaigne sees society as improved by gregariousness, and shared social s.p.a.ce. Recalling the role of drama in antiquity, he remarks that 'well governed polities take care to a.s.semble and bring together their citizens not only for the solemn duties of devotion, but also for sports and entertainments. Sociability and friendliness are thus increased.'

And Montaigne's belief in the importance of proximity to morality would seem to be supported by scientific evidence. In a series of famous experiments carried out at Yale in the 1960s, the psychologist Stanley Milgram set about exploring people's 'obedience' to figures of authority, particularly in situations which seemed to contradict their moral sense. Partic.i.p.ants were recruited and told by a white-coated 'experimenter' to administer electric shocks to a 'pupil' (actually played by an actor) in another room depending upon their answers to certain memory tests. Partic.i.p.ants were told to increase the level of shocks from 'Intense Shock' to 'Danger: Severe Shock' and finally to 'x.x.x' as the pupils continued to get their answers wrong. Milgram found that 65 per cent of people both men and women were prepared to administer shocks up to the highest level, a far higher figure than anyone had predicted.

But what was also interesting was how the proximity of the victims affected the partic.i.p.ants' responses. The first set of experiments saw the pupil as relatively isolated, only able to communicate by briefly banging on the wall. But as the 'pupil' was moved nearer, firstly through verbal feedback, then into the same room, and finally into a position where the subject was instructed to place the the pupil's hand on the electrode, the percentage of subjects prepared to administer the highest shock declined to 30 per cent. Moreover, when the proximity of the experimenter was decreased, and their instructions were conveyed only via telephone, the rate of compliance sank to 21 per cent.

Obviously Milgrim's findings suggest some depressing conclusions, for some perhaps implying a despair about human relations. But they also reveal something else: that our willingness, and also our reluctance to hurt others is bound up with our proxemic beholdenness i.e. our closeness to the experimenter or the victim. And that in order to make sure that we are properly morally informed about a situation, we need to make sure that the authority for and the consequences of our actions the experimenter and the victim are both with us in the same room.

As he ends the Essays Essays, Montaigne seems to offer a similar lesson, and a similar sort of answer to his original conundrum: whether it is better to defy or prostrate ourselves before a conquering force; whether we should despair of social relations. The answer he gives is a moral rather than a tactical one, however: that rebuilding morality involves restoring the proxemic beholdenness of men. At the heart of Montaigne's morality is something that the 'great and tedious debates about the best form of society' and the ideal polities 'feigned by art' invariably tend to ignore: ...that the society of men will hold and bind itself together, at whatsoever cost. In whatever position they are placed, they pile up and arrange themselves by moving and shuffling about, just as a group of objects thrown into a bag find their own way to join and fit together, often better than they could have been arranged deliberately.

A certain 'necessity reconciles and brings men together'. We are more beholden to each other than we know. Our language and our theories may seek to escape this, in attempting to find a mooring beyond ourselves, but we risk losing hold of what lies in front of us. Montaigne's intuitive awareness of the imitative power of behaviour the 'mirror neurons' that serve as an antidote to our selfish genes shows that we are already engaged in a two-way conversation with others: that we are not powerless over their behaviour, nor are they indifferent to ours. If we are looking for a reason for doing good as Montaigne's experience in holding on to his house suggests it might simply be that in doing so, others are more likely feel the same; and that in doing things to others, we are doing things to ourselves.

It is near zero as I set out from Bordeaux, the sun barely visible above a cold white horizon. As I travel east the land outstretches: the smaller fields opening onto larger ones; the houses dispersing. But the earth stays sleeping. The leaves and the branches are silent, only the pruned vine stocks seem to shake their fists against the sky.

(ill.u.s.trations credit 12.4) After an hour I cross the river only a few hundred metres now and skirt Castillon, obeying the satellite navigation's bland Calvinism, and start to climb. Dogs bark. A farmer washes his buckets. The road levels and I stop and turn left, then curve right into the village, past the school and the church, and then into the grounds of the chateau. The electronic display reports the exact location: 4452'33"N, 001'47"E. I go into the ticket office, buy a ticket and a bottle of wine, and walk the few hundred yards to the tower. In the woods a jay laughs his cold corvine laugh.

The attendant unlocks the door and lets me in, turning on the lights. Through the door to the right is the chapel: its halogen heater lending a hand to the spirit. Above is the bedroom and its four-poster bed. And finally I continue up the steps, past the toilet with its tiny window, and duck through the door into the library, wider and lighter than you might think.

Empty of books, it now holds only some fading mementos a plaque, a picture, a statue; a pair of dusty saddles; a table and a chair that Montaigne probably never used. But as I slowly revolve, gazing up at the constellations of inscriptions above me, I wonder about the others who have done the same: opened this door, looked from this window, touched this wall all in search of our oldest superst.i.tion, something irrefutable yet undefined.

That the fact that Montaigne stood here means something. But not in terms of some abstract universal some spirit of the place but something more local, proximate, private and domestic, something truer to Montaigne and to ourselves. That if I reach out my hand I can almost touch his; that we are separated by only a thin sliver of time. And that these coordinates, more than any other, possess a sort of moral gravity. And the simplest proof of this is the fact that I am here.

Montaigne's tower is thus unique in preserving the personal s.p.a.ce of one of the greatest writers of all time, but also a writer for whom personal presence was part of the story that he wished to tell. As he looks into our futures he sees a natural phenomenon on the verge of extinction: a sense that what we are is somehow between us; an awareness of others as integral to ourselves. And these round walls seem to preserve this betweenness, making s.p.a.ce tangible and tastable: a thickening of the invisible, a sense of s.p.a.ce as a bringing together rather than a pulling apart. In the face of the divisions and distances of modernity, Montaigne reminds us that our deepest, nearest, human needs issues of human contentment revolve around a tight orbit, sometimes no larger than this room. And to this end he tries to return philosophy to its roots as philo-sophia: philo-sophia: not simply a love of wisdom, but a friends.h.i.+p with wisdom, a desire to get close to it, to meet it and embrace it as a friend. In trying to reach beyond our capacities to make 'the handful bigger than the hand...straddle higher than our legs' we risk overlooking the intimate but no less intimidating distances between us. not simply a love of wisdom, but a friends.h.i.+p with wisdom, a desire to get close to it, to meet it and embrace it as a friend. In trying to reach beyond our capacities to make 'the handful bigger than the hand...straddle higher than our legs' we risk overlooking the intimate but no less intimidating distances between us.

And as if to affirm this, inscribed on the walls of his study are the signatures of hundreds of visitors anxious to see the place where Montaigne worked, the floor on which he walked, the room in which he slept, and the toilet where he reminded himself that he was stubbornly, frustratingly, painfully, but ultimately to his great relief also cut from the universal pattern of the human. Yet simultaneously these signatures also suggest a desire to connect with our own bearing and presence to meet with Montaigne in order to meet and touch base with ourselves. To announce as some wag has signed himself on the wall 'Moi!'

(ill.u.s.trations credit 12.1) But this is something that Montaigne knew all along. After circling this s.p.a.ce, and attempting to imagine what life was like for Montaigne hearing the shouts of chateau life alongside the chatter of birdsong outside I open my copy of the Essays Essays and turn to the beginning, where Montaigne seems to open the door before we have knocked, and in his words 'To the Reader' seems to address each of ourselves: and turn to the beginning, where Montaigne seems to open the door before we have knocked, and in his words 'To the Reader' seems to address each of ourselves: You have here a book of good faith, reader. It tells you at the outset that I have here proposed to myself no other aim but a domestic and private one. I have here had no consideration for your service or my glory. My powers are not capable of such a design. I have dedicated it to the particular commodity of my family and friends, so that when they have lost me (which they must do soon), they will here retrieve some traits of my conditions and humours, and by that nourish entirely and vividly the knowledge they had of me. Had my intention been to seek the world's favour, I should have adorned myself with borrowed beauties, or have strained to draw myself up into my best posture. I want to be seen here in my simple, natural, and ordinary manner, without exertion or artifice: for it is myself I paint. My defects are there to be read to the life, and my natural form, so far as public decency permits me. If I had been placed among those nations which they say still live under the sweet liberty of the laws of nature, I a.s.sure you I would have most willingly have painted myself entirely and fully naked.So, reader, I am myself the matter of my book. There's no reason you should employ your leisure on a subject so frivolous and vain.So farewell. Montaigne, this first day of March, fifteen hundred and eighty.

Nowhere is Montaigne's witty humility more evident than here, as he invites us inside, yet asks us to leave our critical sword in the hall. Yet what is remarkable about this preface is the way it reaches out to the reader almost literally across time and s.p.a.ce (as he says of his book and himself elsewhere: 'Who touches one touches the other'; and he said to Henry III, 'My book and I are one'). For here, Montaigne forsakes the traditional formality of dedications and uses the more intimate 'tu'. He also keeps the present tense and an almost oral present indicative constantly to the fore (not simply this book, but this book here here). And rather than aiming at a satisfying a universal objective, 'the world's favour', Montaigne's aim is more local, recording his traits and his humours for his 'family and friends'. For Descartes, his book is the Truth, the work of a 'single master'. For Montaigne, the book is the site of a social event, the meeting of writer and reader, of Michel de Montaigne and you.

But what is also significant is Montaigne's description of it as a book of 'good faith' ('bonne foi'). For by 'good faith' Montaigne brings in a rich set of a.s.sociations: Catholic ones, where good faith saves the soul of someone who is unable to receive the sacraments; legal ones, where good faith is an important component of the law of contract; but also the idea of marriage, seen as a relations.h.i.+p of love, but also of trust and fidelity.

And intimately linked to the idea of bonne foi bonne foi was a handshake or handclasp, an image of trust and welcome that went back to antiquity, often in the image of a meeting between the living and the dead, but also standing for, as one historian puts it, for 'an end of hostility, an act of friends.h.i.+p, a pledge of faith'. A soldier in Froissart's was a handshake or handclasp, an image of trust and welcome that went back to antiquity, often in the image of a meeting between the living and the dead, but also standing for, as one historian puts it, for 'an end of hostility, an act of friends.h.i.+p, a pledge of faith'. A soldier in Froissart's Chronicles Chronicles thus offers his hand to another 'to swear his faith' (' thus offers his hand to another 'to swear his faith' ('pour faire jurer sa foi'), a use that is clearly linked to other rituals involving hands and faithfulness, such as the 'handfasts' of betrothal or pledging feudal obedience to a lord, or vows made using a lady's glove or a knight's gauntlet, or oaths sealed by putting one's hand on a book.

(ill.u.s.trations credit 12.5) In Montaigne's time, we can see this identification of 'good faith' with a handclasp in printers devices, such as Bacon's Advancement of Learning Advancement of Learning of 1624, which shows the meeting of two hands above the Latin motto of 1624, which shows the meeting of two hands above the Latin motto Bona fides Bona fides, or that of the Parisian printer Nicolas de Sercy, where two clasping hands are shown surmounted by a crown, along with the motto La bonne Foy couronnee La bonne Foy couronnee. But perhaps it is most clearly displayed in emblem books, like the Emblemata Emblemata of Andrea Alciato, published in multiple editions between 1531 and 1621 (and most probably read by Montaigne). Here good faith is pictured as a relations.h.i.+p between Truth (seen carrying a book and nearly naked), joining hands with Honour, and both of them joined together by True Love (an infant boy). The motto reads: 'These images const.i.tute good faith, which the reverence due to Honour fosters, Love nourishes, Truth brings to birth.' of Andrea Alciato, published in multiple editions between 1531 and 1621 (and most probably read by Montaigne). Here good faith is pictured as a relations.h.i.+p between Truth (seen carrying a book and nearly naked), joining hands with Honour, and both of them joined together by True Love (an infant boy). The motto reads: 'These images const.i.tute good faith, which the reverence due to Honour fosters, Love nourishes, Truth brings to birth.'

And so for Montaigne, 'good faith' is more than simply truth, as truth is only one corner of the triangle, but is rather const.i.tuted by the meeting of all three honour, truth, and true love: reader, writer and book. And as if to seal this, Montaigne presents himself before you in person, in the face-to-face oral dignity of the French n.o.bility, addressing you, 'the Reader', in person, saying he is himself the 'matter' of his book, and placing his book and his hand in your hand.

Select Bibliography Renderings of Montaigne are my own, although interested readers are directed to the two very fine English translations in print: Donald M. Frame's The Complete Works of Montaigne The Complete Works of Montaigne (New York: Everyman, 2003; first published 1957), and Michael Screech's (New York: Everyman, 2003; first published 1957), and Michael Screech's The Complete Essays The Complete Essays (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1993). Online editions of the (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1993). Online editions of the Essais Essais and the and the Journal de Voyage Journal de Voyage may be found at may be found at http://humanities.uchicago.edu/orgs/montaigne/, and John Florio's and Charles Cotton's translations may also be easily found online. The secondary material on Montaigne is voluminous: below I have tried to indicate materials that may be of interest to the general reader as well as discharging some of my numerous debts.

Abeca.s.sis, Jack I. 'Montaigne's Aesthetics of Seduction and the Const.i.tution of the Modern Subject', Montaigne Studies Montaigne Studies, 2 (1990), 6081.

Alciato, Andreas. Emblematum libri II Emblematum libri II (1556), p. 154 for the symbol of 'bonne foi' (reproduced by permission of University of Glasgow Library, Dept of Special Collections). (1556), p. 154 for the symbol of 'bonne foi' (reproduced by permission of University of Glasgow Library, Dept of Special Collections).

Aries, Philippe. Western Att.i.tudes Towards Death from the Middle Ages to the Present Western Att.i.tudes Towards Death from the Middle Ages to the Present, trans. Patricia M. Ranum (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1974), pp. 125 for Aries's concept of 'tamed death'.

Bacon, Francis. The Essays The Essays, ed. John Pitcher (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1985), p. 108 for the atheism of Leucippus, Democritus and Epicurus.

Baumgartner, Frederic J. From Spear to Flintlock: History of War in Europe and the Middle East to the French Revolution From Spear to Flintlock: History of War in Europe and the Middle East to the French Revolution (Santa Barbara: Greenwood Press, 1991), p. 187 for Don John of Austria's advice on arquebus firing. (Santa Barbara: Greenwood Press, 1991), p. 187 for Don John of Austria's advice on arquebus firing.

Behringer, Wolfgang. 'Weather, Hunger and Fears: Origins of the European Witch Hunts in Climate, Society and Mentality', German History German History, 13 (1995), 127 for the mini Ice Age of the late sixteenth century.

Bloch, Marc. Feudal Society Feudal Society, trans. L. A. Manyon (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961), vol. I, pp. 1456 for handclasps in feudal society.

Bomford, Kate. 'Friends.h.i.+p and Immortality: Holbein's Amba.s.sadors Revisited', Renaissance Studies Renaissance Studies, 18 (2004), 54481 for Holbein's Amba.s.sadors Amba.s.sadors as a representation of friends.h.i.+p. as a representation of friends.h.i.+p.

Boutcher, Warren. 'Marginal Commentaries: The Cultural Transmission of Montaigne's Essais Essais in Shakespeare's England', in in Shakespeare's England', in Montaigne et Shakespeare: vers un nouvel humanisme Montaigne et Shakespeare: vers un nouvel humanisme, ed. Jean-Marie Maguin (Montpellier, Societe Francaise Shakespeare & Universite de Paris III, 2003), 1327; p. 14 for critics' views of the 'hidden iceberg' of Montaigne's influence on Shakespeare.

Briggs, Robin. Witchcraft and Neighbours Witchcraft and Neighbours (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1998), p. 8 for the number of European witchcraft accusations. (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1998), p. 8 for the number of European witchcraft accusations.

Bullinger, Heinrich. The Christen State of Matrimonye The Christen State of Matrimonye (1541), fol. 75rv for Protestant advice on the conduct of wives and daughters. (1541), fol. 75rv for Protestant advice on the conduct of wives and daughters.

Burke, Peter. Montaigne Montaigne (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981) (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981) Calvin, Jean, Battles, Ford Lewis and Hugo, Andre Malan. Calvin's Commentary on Seneca's De Clementia Calvin's Commentary on Seneca's De Clementia (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1969), p. 53 for Calvin's commentary on Seneca. (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1969), p. 53 for Calvin's commentary on Seneca.

Cervantes, Miguel. Don Quixote Don Quixote, trans. Tobias Smollet (New York: Barnes and n.o.ble, 2004), p. 328 for Don Quixote's treatise on armaments.

Charlton, Walter. Physiologia Epicuro-Ga.s.sendo-Charletonia Physiologia Epicuro-Ga.s.sendo-Charletonia (1654), p.505 for Charlton's scepticism about animals' interiority. (1654), p.505 for Charlton's scepticism about animals' interiority.

Clark, Willen, B. trans. and ed. A Medieval Book of Beasts: The Second-Family Bestiary A Medieval Book of Beasts: The Second-Family Bestiary (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2006), pp. 43, 130 for the spiritual lessons of weasels and beavers. (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2006), pp. 43, 130 for the spiritual lessons of weasels and beavers.

Clarke, Desmond M. Descartes: A Biography Descartes: A Biography (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), p. 180 for the description of Descartes as a 'reclusive, cantankerous, and oversensitive loner'. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), p. 180 for the description of Descartes as a 'reclusive, cantankerous, and oversensitive loner'.

Davis, Natalie Zemon. Society and Culture in Early Modern France Society and Culture in Early Modern France (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1975), pp. 15287 for 'rites of violence' during the Wars of Religion. (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1975), pp. 15287 for 'rites of violence' during the Wars of Religion.

Dekker, Elly and Lippincott, Kristen. 'The Scientific Instruments in Holbein's Amba.s.sadors: A Re-Examination', Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Inst.i.tutes Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Inst.i.tutes, 62 (1999), 93125 for the astronomical instruments in Holbein's Amba.s.sadors Amba.s.sadors.

Delbruck, Hans. The Dawn of Modern Warfare The Dawn of Modern Warfare, trans. Walter J. Renfroe, Jr. (Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press, 1990), vol. IV, p. 43 for the slaughter at the battle of Pavia.

Desan, Phillipe. 'The Montaigne Project', an interview with Desan in Fathom Fathom magazine ( magazine (www.fathom.com/feature/122610/index.html) for the different inks in Montaigne's line 'because it was him; because it was me'.

Descartes, Rene. Selected Philosophical Writings Selected Philosophical Writings, trans. John Cottingham, Robert Stoothoff and Dugald Murdoch (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988) Dewald, Jonathan. Aristocratic Experience and the Origins of Modern Culture: France 15701715 Aristocratic Experience and the Origins of Modern Culture: France 15701715 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), pp. 556 for Monluc's condemnation of firearms. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), pp. 556 for Monluc's condemnation of firearms.

Epictetus, Enchiridion Enchiridion, trans. George Long (New York: Dover, 2004), pp. 23 for quotations (very slightly modified) from Epictetus.

Erasmus, Desiderius, Enchiridion militis christiani Enchiridion militis christiani ( (The Handbook of the Christian Soldier), trans. Charles Fantazzi, The Collected Works of Erasmus The Collected Works of Erasmus, ed. John W. O'Malley (Toronto: University of Toronto Press), vol. LXVI, p. 84 for Erasmus's literate humanism.

Erasmus, Desiderius. De Utraque Verborem Ac Rerum Copia De Utraque Verborem Ac Rerum Copia ( (On Copia of Words and Ideas), trans. Donald B. King and H. David Rix (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1963), pp. 3841 for Erasmus's delight at receiving a letter.

Flaubert, Gustave, Selected Letters Selected Letters, trans. J. A. Cohen (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1950), p. 115 for Flaubert's eulogy to Montaigne.

Ford, Franklin L. 'Dimensions of Toleration: Castellio, Bodin, Montaigne', Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, 116 (1972), 1369, p. 137 for the translation of Castellio's dedication of the Bible to Henry II.

Frame, Donald. Montaigne: A Biography Montaigne: A Biography (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1965), pp. 2723 for the quotations from the English and Spanish amba.s.sadors; p. 305 for the descriptions of Montaigne's death; and (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1965), pp. 2723 for the quotations from the English and Spanish amba.s.sadors; p. 305 for the descriptions of Montaigne's death; and pa.s.sim pa.s.sim.

Friedrich, Hugo. Montaigne Montaigne, trans. Dawn Eng, ed. Philippe Desan (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991) Froissart, Jean. Chroniques Chroniques, ed. S. Luce, G. Raynaud, Leon Mirot and Albert Mirot (Paris: Societe de l'histoire de France, 18691975), vol. XI, p. 143 for a soldier swearing his faith with a handclasp.

Gallese, V., Fadiga, L., Foga.s.si, L. and Rizzolatti, G. 'Action Recognition in the Premotor Cortex', Brain Brain, 119 (1996), 593609 for the discovery of mirror neurons.

Hall, Edward T. The Hidden Dimension The Hidden Dimension (New York: Doubleday, 1966), p. 121 for Hall's description of the gravitational pull between bodies. (New York: Doubleday, 1966), p. 121 for Hall's description of the gravitational pull between bodies.

Harrison, Peter. 'The Virtues of Animals in Seventeenth-Century Thought', Journal of the History of Ideas Journal of the History of Ideas, 59 (1998), 46384, pp. 4667 for Jacob ibn-Zadd.i.c.k's relating of human attributes to animals.

Harrison, William. The Description of England The Description of England, ed. Georges Edelen (New York: Dover, 1994), p. 130 for the different varieties of wine on offer in Elizabethan England.

Herbert, George. The English Poems The English Poems, ed. Helen Wilc.o.x (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 23 for Herbert's 'The Agonie'.

Hoffmann, George. Montaigne's Career Montaigne's Career (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 76 for Montaigne's decision to withdraw La Boetie's (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 76 for Montaigne's decision to withdraw La Boetie's On Voluntary Servitude; On Voluntary Servitude; and and pa.s.sim pa.s.sim for Montaigne's life and writing practice. for Montaigne's life and writing practice.

Hoffmann, George. 'Anatomy of the Ma.s.s: Montaigne's "Of Cannibals"', Publications of the Modern Language a.s.sociation Publications of the Modern Language a.s.sociation 117 (2002), 20721 for the links between Amerindian religion and Catholicism. 117 (2002), 20721 for the links between Amerindian religion and Catholicism.

Holt, Mack P. The French Wars of Religion, 15621629 The French Wars of Religion, 15621629 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005) (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005) Irving, David. Memoirs of the Life and Writings of George Buchanan Memoirs of the Life and Writings of George Buchanan (Edinburgh: William Blackwood, 1807), pp. 1067 for the Latin text of Buchanan's poem 'Coming to France'. (Edinburgh: William Blackwood, 1807), pp. 1067 for the Latin text of Buchanan's poem 'Coming to France'.

Jensen, Kristian. 'The Humanist Reform of Latin and Latin Teaching', in The Cambridge Companion to Renaissance Humanism The Cambridge Companion to Renaissance Humanism, ed. Jill Kraye (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996) 6381, p. 65 for Johannes Santritter's praise of eloquence.

La Boetie, Etienne de. Oeuvres Oeuvres, ed. Paul Bonnefon (Paris: J. Rouam, 1892) La Boetie, Etienne de. Poemata Poemata, ed. and trans. James S. Hirstein and Robert D. Cottrell, Montaigne Studies Montaigne Studies, 3 (1991), p. 29 for La Boetie's description of the youthful Montaigne's 'fiery energy'.

La Framboisiere, Nicolas-Abraham de. Oeuvres Oeuvres (1669), p. 87 for the rankings of French wines. (1669), p. 87 for the rankings of French wines.

La Marche, Olivier de. 'L'estat de la Maison du Duc Charles Le Hardy', in Nouvelle Collection des Memoires pour servir a l'Histoire de France Nouvelle Collection des Memoires pour servir a l'Histoire de France, ed. J. F. Michaud and J. J. F. Poujoulat (Paris, 1837), ser. i, vol. III, p. 589 for the 'a.s.say' of wine in a n.o.ble household.

Le Roy Ladurie, Emmanuel. The French Peasantry, 14501660 The French Peasantry, 14501660, trans. Alan Sheridan (Aldershot: Scolar Press, 1987), pp. 13031 for Bordeaux wine exports in the late sixteenth century.

Legros, Alain, Essais sur Poutres: Peintures et Inscriptions Chez Montaigne Essais sur Poutres: Peintures et Inscriptions Chez Montaigne (Paris: Klincksieck, 2000), pp. 31722 for Montaigne's erasing of Lucretius' (Paris: Klincksieck, 2000), pp. 31722 for Montaigne's erasing of Lucretius' Nec nova vivendo procuditur ulla voluptas Nec nova vivendo procuditur ulla voluptas.

Leyser, Karl. Communications and Power in Medieval Europe: The Carolingian and Offonian Centuries Communications and Power in Medieval Europe: The Carolingian and Offonian Centuries, ed. Timothy Reuter (London: Hambledon Press, 1994). p.191 for handclasps as a pledge of faith.

Machiavelli, Niccol. The Prince The Prince, trans George Bull (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1993), p. 56 for rulers needing to imitate foxes and lions.

Machyn, Henry. The Diary of Henry Machyn The Diary of Henry Machyn, ed. John Gough Nichols (London: Camden Society, 1848), p. 289 for the wine at William Harvey's daughter's christening.

Malebranche, Nicolas. The Search After Truth The Search After Truth ( (Recherche de la verite), trans. Thomas M. Lennon and Paul J. Olscamp (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), pp. 4945 for Malebranche's scepticism about animal sentience.

Matthews, John Hobson. ed. 'Margam Abbey Muniments: Select Doc.u.ments to 1568', in Cardiff Records Cardiff Records (1901), vol. III, no. 1102 for the local rights of the Earl of Pembroke. (1901), vol. III, no. 1102 for the local rights of the Earl of Pembroke.

Milgram, Stanley. Obedience to Authority: An Experimental View Obedience to Authority: An Experimental View (New York: Harper & Row, 1974). (New York: Harper & Row, 1974).

Mirandola, Pico della. On the Dignity of Man; On Being and the One; Heptaplus On the Dignity of Man; On Being and the One; Heptaplus, trans. Charles Wallis, Paul Miller and Douglas Carmichael (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1965), pp. 67 for Pico's humanistic optimism.

Monluc, Blaise de. The HabsburgValois Wars and the French Wars of Religion The HabsburgValois Wars and the French Wars of Religion, ed. Ian Roy (London: Longman, 1971), p. 221 for Monluc's injury at the siege of Rabastens.

Montaigne, Michel de. Essais de Michel de Montaigne: Texts original de 1580 avec les variantes des editions de 1582 et 1587 Essais de Michel de Montaigne: Texts original de 1580 avec les variantes des editions de 1582 et 1587, ed. R. Dezeimeris and H. Barckhausen, 2 vols (Bordeaux: Feret, 187073) Montaigne, Michel de. The Diary of Montaigne's Journey to Italy The Diary of Montaigne's Journey to Italy, trans. E. J. Trenchman Trenchman (London: Hogarth Press, 1924), p. 12 for Jean le Bon's description of the bathhouse at Plombieres. (London: Hogarth Press, 1924), p. 12 for Jean le Bon's description of the bathhouse at Plombieres.

Montaigne, Michel de. The Complete Essays of Montaigne The Complete Essays of Montaigne, trans. Donald M. Frame (Stanford University Press, 1957), p. 318 for Frame's description of the effect of the 'Apology' as 'perplexing' in his headword to that chapter.

Montaigne, Michel de. Oeuvres completes Oeuvres completes, ed. Albert Thibaudet and Maurice Rat (Paris: Gallimard, 1962) Muchembled, Robert. Culture Populaire et Culture des elites dans la France Moderne Culture Populaire et Culture des elites dans la France Moderne (Paris: Flammarion, 1978), p. 32 for the sad death of Jehann le Porcq. (Paris: Flammarion, 1978), p. 32 for the sad death of Jehann le Porcq.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. Untimely Meditations Untimely Meditations, trans. R. J. Hollingdale (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), p. 135 for Nietzsche's approval of Montaigne.

Norton, Grace. 'The Use Made by Montaigne of Some Special Words', Modern Language Notes Modern Language Notes, 20 (1905), 2438 for Montaigne's changes to words such as 'goust', 'n.o.ble' and 'monstrueux' over the various editions of his text.

Parker, Geoffrey. The Military Revolution: Military Innovation and the Rise of the West, 15001800 The Military Revolution: Military Innovation and the Rise of the West, 15001800 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 17 for the range and effectiveness of arquebuses; p. 60 for the youth and weakness of the men recruited to fire them. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 17 for the range and effectiveness of arquebuses; p. 60 for the youth and weakness of the men recruited to fire them.

Pegge, Samuel, The Forme of Cury The Forme of Cury (1780), pp. 161 for the medieval recipe for hippocras. (1780), pp. 161 for the medieval recipe for hippocras.

Popkin, Richard. The History of Scepticism from Savonarola to Bayle The History of Scepticism from Savonarola to Bayle (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003) (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003) Rawson, Claude. 'The Horror, the Holy Horror: Revulsion, Accusation and the Eucharist in the History of Cannibalism', Times Literary Supplement Times Literary Supplement, 31 October 1997, 34 for links between Amerindian religion and Catholicism.

Reynolds, Edward. A Treatise of the Pa.s.sions and Faculties of the Soule of Man A Treatise of the Pa.s.sions and Faculties of the Soule of Man (1647), p. 505 for Reynolds's scepticism about the linguistic capacities of animals. (1647), p. 505 for Reynolds's scepticism about the linguistic capacities of animals.

Sayce, R. A. The Essays of Montaigne: A Critical Exploration The Essays of Montaigne: A Critical Exploration (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1972) (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1972) Screech, M. A. Montaigne's Annotated Copy of Lucretius: A Transcription and Study of the Ma.n.u.script, Notes and Pen-marks Montaigne's Annotated Copy of Lucretius: A Transcription and Study of the Ma.n.u.script, Notes and Pen-marks (Geneva: Librairie Droz, 1998), p. 152 for Montaigne's annotations relating to taste; p. 499 for his erasing of Lucretius. (Geneva: Librairie Droz, 1998), p. 152 for Montaigne's annotations relating to taste; p. 499 for his erasing of Lucretius.

Starobinski, Jean. Montaigne in Motion Montaigne in Motion, trans. Arthur Goldhammer (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1985) Stebbins, F. A. 'The Astronomical Instruments in Holbein's "Amba.s.sadors"', Journal of the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada Journal of the Royal Astronomical Society of Canada, 56 (1962), 4552 for the astronomical instruments in the Amba.s.sadors Amba.s.sadors.

Supple, James. Arms versus Letters: The Military and Literary Ideals in the Essays Arms versus Letters: The Military and Literary Ideals in the Essays (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984) (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984) Tetsur, Watsuji. Rinrigaku: Ethics in j.a.pan Rinrigaku: Ethics in j.a.pan, trans. Yamamoto Seisaku and Robert E. Carter (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996) Welles, Orson. Interviews Interviews, ed. Mark W. Estrin (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2002), p. 62 for Welles's admiration of Montaigne.