Month: March 2007

This week’s Montaine passage comes from On the Education of Children, which was written to Madame Diane De Foix, Comtesse De Gurson, who was expecting the birth of her first son. How do we know it’s a son? Well, “[You] are too noble-spirited to begin otherwise than with a male,” Michel tells us.

Montaigne uses the occasion of this essay to praise the merits of a liberal arts education. I wish I had it on hand to explain my master’s degree to people. He’s telling us to learn how to think, and how to be curious (and also how to inure ourselves to torture in case we end up in the clutches of an Inquisition). In this passage, we find that it’s not so important to quote the great thinkers (which Montaigne still does a bunch) as it is to understand how they thought:

Let the tutor make his charge pass everything through a sieve and lodge nothing in his head on mere authority and trust: let not Aristotle’s principles be principles to him any more than those of the Stoics or the Epicureans. Let this variety of ideas be set before him; he will choose if he can; if not, he will remain in doubt. Only the fools are certain and assured.

“For doubting pleases me no less than knowing,” says Dante. For if he embraces Xenophon’s and Plato’s opinions by his own reasoning, they will no longer be theirs, they will be his. He who follows another follows nothing. He finds nothing; indeed he seeks nothing. “We are not under a king; let each one claim his own freedom.” [Seneca] Let him know that he knows, at least. He must imbibe their ways of thinking, not learn their precepts. And let him boldly forget, if he wants, where he got them, but let him know how to make them his own. Truth and reason are common to everyone, and no more belong to the man who first spoke them than to the man who says them later. It is no more according to Plato than according to me, since he and I understand and see it in the same way. The bees plunder the flowers here and there, but afterward they make of them honey, which is all theirs; it is no longer thyme or marjoram. Even so with the pieces borrowed from others; he will transform and blend them to make a work that is all his own, to wit, his judgment. His education, work, and study aim only at forming this.

Let him hide all the help he had, and show only what he has made of it. The pillages, the borrowers, parade their buildings, their purchases, not what they get from others. You do not see the gratuities of a member of Parliament, you see the alliances he has gained and honors for his children. No one makes public his receipts; everyone makes public his acquisitions.

The gain from our study is to have become better and wiser by it.

Oh, and Montaigne also offers up some advice for tutors, in the off chance this liberal education doesn’t take:

If this pupil happens to be of such an odd disposition that he would rather listen to some idle story than to the account of a fine voyage or a wise conversation when he hears one; if, at the sound of a drum that calls the youthful ardor of his companions to arms, he turns asideto another that invites him to the tricks of the jugglers; if, by his own preference, he does not find it more pleasant sweet to return dusty and victorious from a combat than from tennis or a ball with the prize for that exercise, I see no other remedy than for his tutor to strangle him early, if there are no witnesses, or apprentice him to a pastry cook in some good town, even though he were the son of a duke.