We will endeavour to sketch the character of Michel Montaigne and his
writings. His individuality, owing to the minute descriptions he gives
of his own self in the Essays, comes out with rare distinctness from
the dark environs of his time--more clearly so than the personality
of any other author, even of that seventeenth century which is so much
nearer to us.

This French nobleman devoted the last thirty years of his life to
philosophical speculations, if that expression is allowable; for
fanciful inclination and changing sentiment, far more than strict
logic and sound common sense, decided the direction of his thoughts.
The book in which he tries to render his ideas is meant to be the
flesh and blood of his own self. The work and the author--so he
says--are to be one. 'He who touches one of them, attacks both.'
In the words of Florio's translation, he observes:--'Authors communicate
themselves unto the world by some speciall and strange marke, I the
first by my generall disposition as Michael Montaigne; not as a
Grammarian, or a Poet, or a Lawyer.'

Few writers have been considered from such different points of view as
Montaigne. The most passionate controversies have arisen about him.
Theologians have endeavoured to make him one of their own; but the
more far seeing ones soon perceived that there was too much scepticism
in his work. Some sceptics would fain attach him to their own ranks;
but the more consistent among them declined the companionship of one
who was too bigoted for them. The great mass of men, as usual, plucked,
according to each one's taste and fancy, some blossom or leaf from his
'nosegay of strange flowers,' [20] and then classified him from that
casual selection.