This document provides a summary and analysis of Montaigne's essay "Par divers moyens on arrive à pareille fin". It argues that the essay explores different moral ideals by examining human character, or ethos. It shows that Montaigne challenges the contemporary heroic ethic by demonstrating mankind's propensity for change. Two of Plutarch's essays, "Instruction pour ceulx qui manient affaires d'estat" and "De la vertu morale", informed Montaigne's discussion of character and emphasized establishing a practical conception of character before elaborating an ethical ideal. By focusing on character, Montaigne restores the initial optimism of the essay and brings a form of closure to one of his most

1. NBSAM, II, 1er
semestre 2010, n°51, pp. 9-21
Accommodating means and ends in Montaigne’s first essay
Le présent article propose une lecture du premier essai de Montaigne selon laquelle
l’ethos serait au cœur d’une démonstration de la faillite de l’idéal héroïque de son
époque. Cette perspective fait valoir deux essais de Plutarque dont le premier
« Instruction pour ceulx qui manient affaires d’estat » fournit à Montaigne l’enjeu qui
propulse son essai et qui finit par mettre en question cette idéal. Le deuxième, « De la
vertu morale », permet de reconnaître dans cette mise en question une vision
alternative de l’ethos, laquelle rétablit l’optimisme initial de l’essai et situe celui-ci
dans le contexte des efforts contemporains d’accéder à l’harmonie civile par le biais
de la réforme morale de l’individu.1
In “Par divers moyens on arrive à pareille fin” Montaigne explores different ways
the vanquished might soften the hearts of their adversaries, ostensibly to less than
satisfactory results. Initially, the premise with which Montaigne opens this essay
resonates with its title to create a sense of optimism.
La plus commune façon d’amollir les cœurs de ceux qu’on a offensez, lors
qu’ayant la vengeance en main, ils nous tiennent à leur mercy, c’est de les
esmouvoir par submission à commiseration et à pitié. Toutefois la braverie, et
la constance, moyens tous contraires, ont quelquefois servi à ce mesme effect.
(I, 1, 7 A)2
Both means of persuasion, submissive pleading and defiant courage, may lead to the
same end: mercy. However, as Montaigne tests his premise against a selection of
historical examples these successively nuance the meaning of his essay’s title, and
finally give it an altogether inauspicious meaning. To begin with, Edward, prince of
Wales, Scanderberg, prince of Epirus, and, to a certain extent, the emperor Conrad the
Third yield only to constant bravery. (In fact, Conrad’s example presents several
incongruities, however Montaigne passes over these, leading the reader to focus on
the similarity of his examples rather than on their differences. I will return to
Conrad’s example.) The fact that these men can resist one form of persuasion yet

2. 2
yield to another leads Montaigne to speculate on the relationship between character
and behavior.
Il se peut dire, que de rompre son cœur à la commiseration, c’est l’effect de la
facilité, débonnaireté, et mollesse, d’où il advient que les natures plus foibles,
comme celles des femmes, des enfans, et du vulgaire y sont plus subjettes;
mais ayant eu à desdaing les larmes et les prières, de se rendre à la seule
reverence de la saincte image de vertu, que c’est l’effect d’une ame forte et
imployable, ayant en affection et en honneur une vigueur masle, et obstinée.
(I, 1, 8 A)
To all appearances, Montaigne’s explanation rests on the self-evident assumptions
that character determines behavior, and conversely, that behavior reflects character.
When considering what may prompt commiseration, Montaigne tells us that weaker
natures are more given to this behavior because their character is marked by the same
qualities that occasion it: “Il se peut dire, que de rompre son cœur à la commiseration,
c’est l’effect de la facilité, débonnaireté, et mollesse, d’où il advient que les natures
plus foibles, comme celles des femmes, des enfans, et du vulgaire y sont plus
subjettes.” On the other hand, Montaigne evokes the strong soul’s behavior, that is, its
exclusive deference to virtue, as attesting to its character: “de se rendre à la seule
reverence de la saincte image de vertu, que c’est l’effect d’une ame forte et
imployable, ayant en affection et en honneur une vigueur masle, et obstinée.” We
might easily infer from this passage that weaker natures will always, and only,
respond to submission, while the strong soul will only, and always, yield to constant
bravery. Further historical examples show, however, that neither type of character can
be relied upon to act in accordance with its own moral profile. On the one hand, the
softness of lesser souls renders them amenable to both means of persuasion—witness,

3. 3
the people of Thebes, who respond favorably to Pelopidas’s plea for mercy and lack
the courage to vote on Epaminondas’s fate after hearing his brazen self-defense. (I, 1,
8 A) On the other hand, the reverence for constant bravery of some strong souls
neither prevents them from yielding to submission nor guarantees that they will honor
the courage of others.
Voyla Pompeius qui pardonna à toute la ville des Mamertins contre laquelle il
estoit fort animé, en consideration de la vertu et magnanimité du citoyen
Zenon, qui se chargeoit seul de la faute publique, et ne requeroit autre grace
que d’en porter seul la peine. Et l’hoste de Sylla ayant usé en la ville de Peruse
de semblable vertu, n’y gaigna rien, ny pour soy ny pour les autres. (I, 1, 9 A)
Montaigne further underscores the inconsistency of strong souls with his later
example of Alexander the Great. (I, 1, 9-10 B, C) Ultimately, the proverbial title of
Montaigne’s essay retains its initial optimism only when applied to lesser souls—
divers means lead to the same favorable end—but takes on a dangerous uncertainty
when applied to strong souls—divers means may well lead to the same end, but
whether or not this end is favorable remains uncertain.
The unfortunate consequences of the strong souls’ inconsistency in “Par divers
moyens…” has led some to read this essay as a condemnation of the heroic ethic
exalted by Montaigne’s contemporaries, an ethic informed by a pseudo-Stoic notion
of constancy according to which physical endurance and force of will constitute the
primary touchstones of virtuous conduct.3
While this interpretation effectively locates
Montaigne’s essay in the historical context of the French civil wars and draws forth
the ethical design of Montaigne’s book, it does not fully account for the predominant
importance Montaigne assigns human character, or ethos, in challenging the
contemporary heroic ethic. The nature of human character, specifically mankind’s

4. 4
propensity to change, is the only certitude Montaigne advances in this essay: “Certes,
c’est un subject merveilleusement vain, divers, et ondoyant, que l’homme. Il est
malaisé d’y fonder jugement constant et uniforme.” (I, 1, 9 A) In effect, the theme of
human inconsistency traverses Montaigne’s book, and his first essay establishes this
optic as a guiding force of his reflections. It is not enough to concede that heroic
virtue is flawed; Montaigne leads us to ask why this is so. What makes mankind so
susceptible to change, and why does one individual’s inconsistency result in merciful
behavior but another’s in cruelty? By reading “Par divers moyens…” from the
perspective of character, in other words, as exploring different moral ideals, we are
able to answer these questions and, in the process, to restore its initial optimism and
bring a form of closure to one of Montaigne’s most disconcertingly open-ended
essays.
Two texts in particular inform Montaigne’s discussion of character. These are
Plutarch’s essays “Instruction pour ceulx qui manient affaires d’estat” and “De la
vertu morale.”4
Not coincidentally, in both works Plutarch posits the need to establish
a practical conception of character, one that reflects the reality of human nature, prior
to elaborating an ethical ideal.
Placing ethos before ethic
Montaigne gleans the gist of his opening premise (how we might soften an
adversary’s heart) as well as the examples with which he closes the 1580 edition of
“Par divers moyens…” (Pompey and Sulla) from Plutarch’s “Instruction pour ceulx
qui manient affaires d’estat.”5
Plutarch writes this essay in response to an aspiring
political leader, Menemachus, who has asked for advice on matters of government.
Plutarch lauds Menemachus’s good judgment in seeking council given his youth and
lack of experience, but especially because philosophy has fallen woefully short of

5. 5
equipping future leaders with practical advice. Philosophers do well to encourage us
to participate in public affairs, but they do not teach us effectively how to go about
such matters. (“Instruction,” 161r A-B) Plutarch’s practical approach to philosophy is
further evinced by his underlying premise that in order to govern others effectively
one must first be able to govern oneself. Jacques Amyot’s translation explicitly
couches Plutarch’s advice in the art of self-government: “à raison de quoy tu me
requiers de te donner des preceptes et advertissemens, pour sçavoir comment tu t’y
dois gouverner” (“Instruction,” 161r B). Plutarch goes on to observe that to govern
oneself it is necessary to study one’s natural condition, which is to say, one’s
character. For instance, Plutarch urges Menemachus to examine his desire to become
involved in politics. This desire must be well-founded, not fueled by vain ambition.
(“Instruction,” 161r C) Once Menemachus is sure of himself he is to study the
character of the people he governs: “alors il se fault mettre à diligemment considerer
et cognoistre le naturel des citoiens, à qui lon a affaire.” (“Instruction,” 161v G) The
study of character, one’s own and that of the collective ethos, is a necessary first step
for preparing a successful career in the political arena, in other words, for elaborating
a political ethic. Consequently, when Montaigne frames his essay with a passage from
the “Instruction” we need to consider that his ethical discussion is, like Plutarch’s,
anchored in a clear understanding of human character. In fact, Montaigne modifies
Plutarch’s text in such a manner that positions his readers to recognize and then
reconsider a familiar conception of heroic character.
To begin with, when Montaigne borrows from Plutarch in elaborating the opening
premise of “Par divers moyens…” he does not retain the image of defiant courage as
Plutarch defines it in the “Instruction.” The ultimate act of bravery that Plutarch
envisages here, and which occasions the passages Montaigne borrows, is the courage

6. 6
to speak frankly, “la hardiesse de franchement parler” (“Instruction,” 172r B-172v E).
The worthy (though defeated) leader will come to his country’s aid by assuming full
responsibility and asking that his fellow countrymen be treated with mercy in
exchange for his own surrender. Such negotiation cannot be confused with submissive
pleading—which Plutarch, like Montaigne, aligns with common folk—because the
courageous leader places himself at great risk.
Mais encore qu’il ne soit point coulpable du peché de la commune, si se
mettra il en danger pour eulx, car c’est chose tres honeste, et outre
l’honnesteté du faict en soy, il est advenu plusieurs fois, que la vertu et
grandeur de courage d’un tel homme a tant esté estimee, qu’elle a effacé le
courroux qui estoit émeu contre toute une commune, et a dissipé toute
l’aigreur et la fureur d’une menasse […]. (“Instruction,” 172r, B-D)
The brand of courage which Plutarch advocates here is a form of parrhesia, free
speech or franc-parler, an idea fundamental to ancient Greek political ethic and which
posits the necessary relationship between individual morality and civic duty.6
The
purpose of parrhesia is to defend the truth through plain speech, that is, without using
rhetoric to persuade one’s audience. The individual who engages in parrhesia does so
at great personal risk and, above all, must be of sound moral integrity because this is
what enables him to recognize the truth and to convey it. (Plutarch addresses the uses
and necessary conditions of parrhesia in his essays “Comment on pourra discerner le
flatteur d’avec l’amy” and “Du trop parler”.) Considering that the underlying message
of “Par divers moyens…” is that the contemporary moral ideal is unreliable, it stands
to reason that knowing truth remains just as elusive as behaving with mercy, making
parrhesia an altogether improbable, not to say impossible, mode of ethical conduct.

7. 7
The most immediate consequence of Montaigne’s elliptical borrowing is to allow
his contemporary readers to imagine courage in its most familiar form, that of
physical resistance. In other words, having rejected parrhesia as a means of eliciting
mercy, Montaigne himself declines to use it to condemn a contemporary moral ideal.
Instead, he opts for a (nearly) impersonal objectivity that appears to let the facts speak
for themselves, leaving little if any interpretation up to his reader. Montaigne abridges
the example of Sulla with which he closes the first edition of his essay to this effect.
According to Plutarch, Sulla’s adversary dies at his own hands, having refused
clemency when his own people are condemned to die.
Et l’hoste de Sylla aiant usé de semblable vertu, mais non pas envers un
semblable seigneur et capitaine, mourut genereusement: car Sylla aiant pris la
ville de Præneste, condamna tous les habitans à mourir, excepté son hoste,
auquel il pardonna pour l’anciene alliance d’hospitalité qu’il avoit avec luy:
mais son hoste luy respondit, qu’il ne vouloit point estre tenu de sa vie au
meurtrier de son pays, et se jetta parmy la troupe de ses citoyens que lon
massacroit, où il fut meurtry quant et eux. (“Instruction,” 172r D-172v E)
The end result may be the same—Sulla remains unmoved by courage (though
diplomatic) and his adversary meets a cruel death—but Montaigne’s elliptical account
creates a more pronounced symmetry with Pompey’s behavior, leaving the reader to
surrender, as it were, to the evident inconsistency of strong souls and the subsequent
unreliability of the heroic ideal.
An ethos based on moderate passions
Montaigne, however, does not leave his readers entirely in the lurch. His
hypothetical explanation of human behavior, the central passage of “Par divers

8. 8
moyens…,” provides an indication as to why Pompey and Sulla respond differently to
similar situations, as well as the basis for elaborating an alternative moral ideal.
Il se peut dire, que de rompre son cœur à la commiseration, c’est l’effect de la
facilité, débonnaireté, et mollesse, d’où il advient que les natures plus foibles,
comme celles des femmes, des enfans, et du vulgaire y sont plus subjettes;
mais ayant eu à desdaing les larmes et les prières, de se rendre à la seule
reverence de la saincte image de la vertu, que c’est l’effect d’une ame forte et
imployable, ayant en affection et en honneur une vigueur masle, et obstinée.
(I, 1, 8 A)
The above opposition between weakness and strength rests primarily on the degree to
which an individual is subject to the influence of passions. While weaker natures
appear inherently disposed to them, strong and unyielding souls seem to draw their
strength from shunning passions, whether these be the passions of others or their own.
However, the language Montaigne uses to describe the strong soul’s reverence for
virtue and affection for brute strength and force of will—« la seule reverence de la
saincte image de la vertu… »—gives the lie to its invulnerability. The strong soul is
itself the product of passionate excess, which carries the implication that passions are
an inalienable part of human character. Montaigne’s later personal addition
preceeding the above passage suggests that denying them is inhumane, in addition to
being unrealistic.
[B] L’un et l’autre de ces deux moyens m’emporteroit aysement. Car j’ay une
merveilleuse lascheté vers la misericorde et la mansuetude. Tant y a qu’à mon
advis, je serois pour me rendre plus naturellement à la compassion, qu’à
l’estimation: si est la pitié passion vitieuse aux Stoïques: ils veulent qu’on

9. 9
secoure les affligez, mais non pas qu’on flechisse et compatisse avec eux. (I,
1, 8 B)
Montaigne’s allusion to Stoics here draws an important distinction between the
philosophical concept of constancy and the strong soul’s disdain for passion. Stoics,
unlike the strong soul, advocate helping those who suffer. In effect, Seneca, whom
Montaigne paraphrases here, writes: “Tout ce que j’aime voir faire aux personnes
compatissantes, [le sage] le fera volontiers et d’une âme haute; il viendra au secours
de ceux qui pleurent, mais sans pleurer avec eux.” (“La Clémence,” II vi, 2)7
The
difference between compassionate people and the sage lies not in a categorical
contempt for passion but in the ability to respond to those of others without sharing
them. At the same time, Montaigne’s own inclination toward compassion sets him
apart from the Senecan wise man, or at least suggests that this model of Stoic
detachment does not reflect his natural disposition, his ethos. In fact, Montaigne’s
self-description places him somewhere in between two ideals, one of which regards
the passions of others with contempt, while the other forbids acting on one’s own
passions.8
Following Montaigne’s personal example, we might consider that Pompey, unlike
Sulla, ascribes to a moral ideal according to which passions are a potentially positive
factor in ethical conduct. Although Montaigne tells us little if anything at all
regarding Pompey’s disposition when he decides to pardon his adversary, we have in
the earlier example of Conrad another strong soul whose behavior resembles
Pompey’s and whose disposition is the object of a more detailed description.
L’Empereur Conrad troisiesme, ayant assiegé Guelphe, duc de Bavieres, ne
voulut condescendre à plus douces conditions, quelques viles et laches
satisfactions qu’on luy offrit, que de permettre seulement aux gentils-femmes

10. 10
qui estoyent assiegées avec le Duc, de sortir, leur honneur sauve, à pied, avec
ce qu’elles pourroyent emporter sur elles. Elles d’un cœur magnanime
s’aviserent de charger sur leurs espaules leurs maris, leurs enfans et le Duc
mesme. L’Empereur print si grand plaisir à voir la gentillesse de leur courage,
qu’il en pleura d’aise, et amortit toute cette aigreur d’inimité mortelle et
capitale, qu’il avoit portée contre ce Duc, et dès lors en avant le traita
humainement luy et les siens. (I, 1, 8 A)
Technically, Conrad yields only to a show of courage. However, like Pompey, he is
amenable to a form of courage other than “une vigueur masle, et obstinée,”
demonstrated here by the Bavarian women’s daring and magnanimous interpretation
of Conrad’s concession. More to the point, in doing so Conrad willingly gives in to
passion, as evinced by his tears of delight which contrast radically with Edward’s and
Scanderberg’s principled admiration. For these men the denial of fear and weakness
through a show of defiant courage is the epitome of a moral ideal (“une si notable
virtue”, “un si honorable party”), one that precludes yielding to sentiment. (I, 1, 7-8
A)
From what we have seen thus far of Montaigne’s essay we can surmise that,
according to the alternative moral ideal he proposes, not only are passions inherent to
human character, above all they can be conducive to ethical conduct. Plutarch’s essay
“De la vertu morale” offers a conceptual framework that elucidates this image of
human character, and the role passions play in fostering correct action.
Plutarch’s “De la vertu morale”
Plutarch’s discussion of moral virtue begins like his “Instruction” in that his first
move is to draw forth the lack of practical realism of other philosophies, Stoicism in
particular, and to insist on the primacy of establishing a sound understanding of

11. 11
human character before elaborating an ethical ideal. (« De la vertu morale » 31r C-
31v G) Plutarch criticizes the Stoics’ conception of the soul because, according to
him, it derives from a prior conception of virtue, which Stoics consider to be a
product of reason alone. Because Stoics hold that the human soul is essentially
rational, they find themselves in the awkward position of explaining the irrational
behavior of a rational beings by attributing it to bad reason.9
(« De la vertu morale »
31v E-F) Accordingly, Plutarch begins his discussion of moral virtue by examining
the nature of man’s soul. In doing so, he evokes the authority of Pythagoras, Plato and
Aristotle to argue that the passions are an essential part of it and of moral conduct. It
is neither possible nor desirable to eliminate them. Rather, the passions should be
brought to collaborate with reason, thereby establishing a harmonious equilibrium
between two potentially opposing forces. The product of this harmony is none other
than moral virtues, or “reglements et moderations des passions et affections de nostre
ame.” (« De la vertu morale », 32v F-H)10
Moral virtue (sg.), then, refers to a state of
equilibrium and collaboration between the passions and reason, while moral virtues
(pl.) refer to the manifestation of moderate qualities or passions, the product of this
collaboration. It is thanks to the moderation of passions that mankind is able to act on
reason with prudence and sound judgment. In fact, without passion we would remain
idle, like a ship with empty sails. («De la vertu morale », 37v G)
Plutarch’s conception of ethos casts light on why, in “Par divers moyens…” some
strong souls fail to abide by their own moral ideal. Denying passions as integral to
human nature and moral conduct, rather than embracing and seeking to moderate
them, leaves the strong soul prone to passionate excess. Montaigne follows a similar
line of reasoning in his second essay, “De la tristesse,” regarding the Cardinal of
Lorraine’s surprising grief at the death of a man in his employ, when several days

12. 12
earlier he met the news of his brother’s assassination with perfect constancy. “Mais à
la vérité ce fut, qu’estant d’ailleurs plein et comblé de tristesse, la moindre sur-charge
brisa les barrieres de la patience.” (I, 2, 12 A) If the Cardinal succumbs, Montaigne
implies, it is because he denies passions by trying to block them out. In the 1580
edition of “Par divers moyens” passionate excess takes the form of an inordinate
affection—“la seule reverence de la saincte image de la vertu,” “ayant en affection et
en honneur une vigueur masle, et obstinée”—which in early modern French translates
as a “perturbation, or trouble of mind; (and hence) also a sicknesse, disease, or
imperfection (of mind, or bodie).”11
In contrast, Montaigne’s “natures plus foibles,”
who are characterized by “facilité, débonnaireté, mollesse,” come across as naturally
docile, that is, inclined toward moderation. Montaigne’s nuanced opposition between
weaker (not weak) and strong souls in fact reflects Plutarch’s premise that passions
exist first as potential, or “puissance naturelle […] le commancement et par maniere
de dire, la matiere de la passion […] La passion apres est le mouvement actuel
d’icelle puissance. » («De la vertu morale » 32v G) The exceptional potency of the
strong souls’ “puissance naturelle” makes it all the more difficult for them to temper
their passions. This would explain why their reverential affection for strength actually
impedes rather than assists them in acting virtuously: it fuels their natural potential for
excess. By the same token, it is easier for “les natures plus foibles” to temper their
own lesser passionate potential. In the 1588 edition of “Par divers moyens…”
Montaigne elaborates on the notion of passionate excess and alludes more clearly to
the idea of moderation with his discussion of Alexander the Great.
Accommodating means and ends
Montaigne introduces Alexander the Great as a counter-example to the strong
souls of Edward, Scanderberg, and Conrad in that he is the most valorous of men (“le

13. 13
plus hardy”) but he treats the vanquished with mercy and refuses to honor the
unyielding courage of others, as evinced by his cruelty toward Betis (1588) and the
people of Thebes (1595). (I, 1, 9-10) In an effort to understand Alexander’s behavior,
Montaigne puts three questions to the reader, the first and second of which focus on
the degree of Alexander’s admiration for “hardiesse.”
[B] Seroit-ce que la hardiesse luy fut si commune que, pour ne l’admirer point,
il la respectast moins? [C] Ou qu’il l’estimast si proprement sienne qu’en cette
hauteur il ne peust souffrir de la veoir en un autre sans le despit d’une passion
envieuse, ou que l’impetuosité naturelle de sa cholere fust incapable
d’opposition? (I, 1, 10 B, C)
These questions can be seen to erect a spectrum, the limits of which are marked by a
complete indifference toward valor, or an excessive attachment to it. Montaigne is
effectively leading us to consider Alexander’s behavior in terms of passionate
extremes, both of which have an equally perverse effect. At the same time, these
questions are suggestive of a third, unstated disposition located at the mid-point
between the absence of and the excessive affection for valor. Indeed, we might
imagine that had Alexander been able to cultivate a moderate affection he would have
treated Betis with mercy.
It is significant that Montaigne has chosen to figure a lack of moderation by way
of Alexander the Great. Alexander was the pupil of Aristotle, who was himself a
proponent of a kind of moderation known as metriopatheia, according to which
moderation can be achieved by opposing contrary passions. In “De la vertu morale”
Plutarch rejects this notion of moderation because it allows that vice could lead to
virtue—“mais vertu ne peut […] estre composition ny meslange de deux vices.” («De
la vertu morale » 33r D) Instead, the moderation characteristic of moral virtue must be

14. 14
achieved through the attenuation of individual passions: “la vertu morale est un
certain mouvement et puissance en la partie irraisonnable de l’ame qui tempere le
relaschement ou roidissement, et le plus et moins qui y peuvent estre, reduisant
chascune passion à temperature moderee pour la garder de faillir.” (« De la vertu
morale » 33v E) Montaigne challenges metriopatheia for the same reason in “De la
cruauté”: “Si la vertu ne peut luire que par le combat des appetits contraires, dirons
nous donq qu’elle ne se puisse passer de l’assistance du vice, et qu’elle luy doive cela,
d’en estre mise en credit et en honneur? » (II, 11, 424 A) In “Par divers moyens…”
however, when Montaigne figures a lack of moderation by way of Alexander, he not
only contests the idea of metriopatheia, the questions he asks of Alexander’s affection
for valor posit a clearly Plutarchan notion of moderation achieved by tempering a
single passion. The third question Montaigne asks of Alexander—“ou [seroit-ce] que
l’impetuosité naturelle de sa cholere fust incapable d’opposition?” (I,1, 10 C)—
recalls the idea of “puissance naturelle,” and at the same time reiterates Montaigne’s
objection to metriopatheia, an ineffective form of opposition.
The related ideas of moderation and moral virtue lend an original and altogether
more satisfactory meaning to the title of Montaigne’s essay, a meaning that is
consonant with the initial optimism of his opening premise. Montaigne, I would
argue, plays on the ambivalence of the term “moyens.” In early modern French the
term moyen refers to both causal means (“way; manner”) as well as to arithmetic
means (“meane; moderation, measure”).12
Taken in its second meaning moyen can
express the Plutarchan idea of moral virtues as the manifestation of moderate
passions. As such it yields the following interpretation: when faced with an adversary
of moderate disposition, we can elicit mercy with both submission or constant
bravery. In this sense divers means lead once again to a same and favorable end.

15. 15
Montaigne’s later examples extend the importance of moderation to include the
courage displayed by the vanquished. This is particularly so of Betis, who appears to
bear some responsibility for the cruelty visited on him. Because he continues to fight
when all hope of victory is lost, Betis inflicts on Alexander needless and costly losses.
This “chiere victoire” is precisely what prompts Alexander to seek vengeance.
Alexandre, forçant apres beaucoup de grandes difficultez, la ville de Gaza,
rencontra Betis qui y commandoit, de la valeur duquel il [Alexandre] avoit,
pendant ce siege, senty des preuves merveilleuses, lors seul, abandonné des
siens, ses armes despecées, tout couvert de sang et de playes, combatant
encores au milieu de plusieurs Macedoniens, qui le [Betis] chamailloient de
toutes parts; et luy dict, tout piqué d’une si chiere victoire, car entre autres
dommages, il avoit receu deux fresches blessures sur sa personne: Tu ne
mourras pas comme tu as voulu, Betis. (I, 1, 9 B)
Despite Montaigne’s characteristically ambiguous use of pronouns it is clear that
although Alexander’s rage is cruel and ignoble, it is not gratuitous. As David Quint
has observed in relation to “Par divers moyens…,” in I, 15 “On est puny pour
s’opiniastrer à une place sans raison” Montaigne considers the negative consequences
of excessive valor when espoused by the vanquished. (Quint, 17-19)
La vaillance a ses limites, comme les autres vertus: lesquels franchis on se
trouve dans le train du vice; en maniere que par chez elle on se peut rendre à la
temerité, obstination et folie, qui n’en sçait bien les bornes: malaiseez en
verité à choisir sur leurs confins. De cette consideration est née la coustume,
que nous avons aux guerres, de punir, voire de mort, ceux qui s’opiniastrent à
defendre une place, qui par les reigles militaires ne peut estre soustenue.
(I, 15, 68, A)

16. 16
In a sense, Montaigne’s later example reminds us that his decisive remark on the
inconsistency of human behavior concerns all of mankind—“Certes, c’est un subject
merveilleusement vain, divers, et ondoyant, que l’homme.” To this effect, Montaigne
points out in “De la praesumption,” that during the French civil wars, the heroic ideal
is not exclusive to the noble elite:
Les autres vertus ont eu peu ou point de mise en cet aage; mais la vaillance,
elle est devenue populaire par nos guerres civile, et en cette partie il se trouve
parmy nous des ames fermes jusques à la perfection, et en grand nombre, si
que le triage en est impossible à faire. (II, 17, 662 A)
Ideally, then, in order for the moral ideal of moderation to be most effective, both the
vanquished and their conquerors must espouse it.
By focusing on Montaigne’s attention to character we arrive at a more humane
and practicable ethic than the heroic ideal he shows up as flawed. Consistency,
Montaigne tells us, is more important than constancy and the only way to behave
consistently is to accommodate one’s moral ideal to the passionate nature of human
character, that very quality which makes it so difficult to arrive at a definitive and
universal judgment of mankind. The touchstone, then, of Montaigne’s ethic is a moral
ideal characterized by moderation, and not a single, absolute moral quality.13
Seen
from this perspective merciful behavior no longer seems as remote or as arbitrary.
Concluding remarks
The theme of moderation occupies an important place in the Essais as a necessary
guide for dealing with the inconsistency of human behavior, the primary cause of
which Montaigne repeatedly tells us is passionate excess—whether it takes the form
of religious devotion, a desire to do good or uphold justice, the love we have for
others or ourselves, even our desire to know. For Montaigne we must be moderate in

17. 17
all things, but in “De la moderation” (I, 30) he insists on this in terms of virtue in
particular.
Comme si nous avions l’attouchement infect, nous corrompons par nostre
maniement les choses qui d’elles mesmes sont belles et bonnes. Nous pouvons
saisir la vertu de façon qu’elle en deviendra vicieuse, si nous l’embrassons
d’un desir trop aspre et violent. Ceux qui disent qu’il n’y a jamais d’exces en
la vertu, d’autant que ce n’est plus vertu si l’exces est, se jouent des parolles
[..]. On peut et trop aimer la vertu, et se porter excessivement en une action
juste. A ce biaiz s’accommode la voix divine: Ne soyez pas plus sages qu’il ne
faut, mais soyez sobrement sages. (I, 30, 197 A)
When Montaigne tells us just a few lines later that he favors mild and ordinary natures
(“J’aime des natures tempérées et moyennes,” I, 30, 197 C), he orients his discussion
of virtue and moderation in terms of character, one that reflects the moral ideal
present in his first essay. Ultimately, Plutarch’s idea of moral virtues—a vision of
character or ethos—is especially apposite to Montaigne’s search for a new ethic
because it provides a model of correct action more conducive to social harmony than
heroic virtue, which glorifies self-sacrifice and thrives on extraordinary
circumstances. After all, if Montaigne seeks an alternative ethic it is precisely in order
to find a way out of the extraordinary circumstances which are the French civil wars.
Acknowledging the fundamental importance of character to Montaigne’s ethical
position in “Par divers moyens…” has the merit of allowing us to situate his ideas
within the context of contemporary intellectual debates. As legislative measures
proved unsuccessful in establishing lasting peace, people turned to individual moral
reform as a means of achieving social harmony, a trend consistent with the influence
moral philosophy held in the elaboration of political discourse. Mark Greengrass has

18. 18
recently examined the concept of passions in early modern France and its significance
in on-going efforts to construct a new ethic.14
According to Greengrass, although the
passions provided a neutral ground for exploring moral reform in a time religious and
political polemic, “there was no consensus on how to conceptualize passions.”
(Greengrass, 6) I would argue that in “Par divers moyens…” Montaigne, by way of
Plutarch, responds to this conceptual indecision with a serious alternative. Plutarch’s
essay « De la vertu morale » in particular not only helps us to understand why heroic
constancy is flawed, it also enables us to recognize in Montaigne’s essay a conception
of human character that makes passions a necessary and beneficial factor of moral
reform. Not coincidentally, Plutarch’s works were a valuable reference in a number of
contemporary intellectual circles including Henri III’s Palace Academy, the locus of a
series of debates on the passions, but also among Neo-Stoics searching to elaborate a
vision of mankind suited to the social realities of the French civil wars, as well as
among forward-thinking historians intent on fashioning a civic-minded political
ethic.15
Plutarch, then, was a known entity among Montaigne’s readers and as such
would have been a precious and compelling intertext for Montaigne when engaging
his contemporaries in moral and ethical reflection in the Essais.
1
This article is adapted from the second chapter of my dissertation “ ‘C’est un
philosophe qui nous apprend la vertu,’ Studies in Montaigne’s Plutarch,” University
of Virginia, 2009.
2
Michel de Montaigne, Les Essais, édition Villey-Saulnier, PUF “Quadrige” (Paris:
2004). All italics appearing in quoted passages are mine.
3
See especially David Quint’s Montaigne and the Quality of Mercy: Ethical and
Political Themes in the Essais, Princeton University Press (Princeton: 1998). David
Quint examines this essay from the perspective of the contemporary heroic ideal in
his first chapter, “Clemency and Revenge: The First Essay and Its Place in
Montaigne’s Book,” pp. 3-41. While my reading echoes his on a number of points I
ultimately arrive at a very different interpretation than his.

19. 19
4
All references to Plutarch’s works are to Jacques Amyot’s translations which
Montaigne himself read, and which were a standard reference among Montaigne’s
readers. Les Œuvres morales & meslees de Plutarque, Translatees du Grec en
François par Jacques Amyot Evesque d’Auxerre, Conseiller du Roy en son privé
Conseil, & grand Aumosnier de France. Facsimile of the 1572 edition printed by
Michel de Vascosan, Paris. Courtesy of the British Museum, Press-mark 1487.y.6 2
Tomes. Introduction by M. A. Screech, Johnson Reprint Corporation and Mouton &
Co. (New York and The Hague: 1971). On the prevalance of Amyot’s Plutarch among
early modern French readers see especially Robert Aulotte, Amyot et Plutarque, la
tradition des Moralia au XVIe
siècle. Genève: Droz, 1965 and “Plutarque et la
renaissance du stoïcisme en France aux XVIe
et XVIIe
siecles,” in VIIe
Congres Aix-
en-Provence, 1-6 avril 1963. Actes du congres. Paris: Belles Lettres, 1964.
5
Isabelle Konstantinovic provides the most thorough compilation of Plutarchan
passages in the Essais in her Montaigne et Plutarque, Travaux d’Humanisme et
Renaissance, n° CCXXXI, Droz (Genève: 1989).
6
See for example Michel Foucault’s lectures on parrhesia in classical and modern
times compiled in Le gouvernement de soi et des autres. Cours au collège de France,
1983-1984 II, Le courage de la vérité. François Ewald, Alessandro Fontana, and
Frédéric Gros, eds. Gallimard (Paris: 2009).
7
Sénèque, Entretiens, Lettres à Lucilius, coll. Bouquins, ed. Paul Veyne, Robert
Laffont (Paris: 1993).
8
This is not to say that Montaigne is unequivocally opposed to the Stoic idea of
constancy, which he appropriates to suit his own purpose in essays such as I, 20
« Que philosopher c’est apprendre à mourir ». When reading the Essais it is crucial to
bear in mind that there existed no single, uniform Stoic doctrine in later sixteenth-
century France, and that consequently it would be misleading to analyze Montaigne’s
allusion to Stoic ideas in terms of how accurately they conform to what had become a
multifarious and changing philosophy. Rather, it makes more sense to consider how
Montaigne’s ambivalence toward Stoicism—that he alternately rejects Stoic ideas and
uses them as his own—allows us to recognize the coherence of his own thought. The
present allusion to De la clémence is a case in point. Seneca’s text serves both to
denounce a perverse notion of constancy and to off-set a moral ideal that embraces
passions in order to further correct conduct. Moreover, Seneca’s own position toward
the passions is also nuanced, especially in his Letters to Lucilius, something of which
Montaigne and his contemporaries were well aware. On the reception of Seneca’s
works and the status of Stoic ideas generally in later Renaissance France, see Denise
Carabin’s Les Idées stoicïennes dans la littérature morale des XVIe
et XVIIe
siècles
(1575-1642), Slatkine (Genève: 2004). Daniel Babut’s seminal study of Stoicism in
Plutarch’s works offers a valuable model for drawing forth the overarching coherence
of an ostensibly ambivalent attitude toward this philosophy, and simultaneously
elucidates the powerful attraction Plutarch’s works exercised on Montaigne and his
contemporaries, Plutarque et le stoïcisme, PUF (Paris: 1969).
9
“Mais tous ces philosophes là ont cela de commun entre eulx, qu’ils tiennent que la
vertu est une disposition et une puissance de la principale partie de l’ame qui est la
raison et supposent cela comme chose toute confessee, toute certaine et irrefragable,
et n’estiment point qu’il y ait en l’ame de partie sensuelle et irraisonnable, qui soit de
nature differente de la raison, ains pensent que ce soit tousjours une mesme partie et
substance de l’ame, celle qu’ils appellent principale, ou la raison et l’entendement qui
se tourne et se change en tout, tant és passions, comme és habitudes et dispositions,

20. 20
selon la mutation desquelles il devient ou vice ou vertu, et qui n’a en soy rien qui soit
irraisonnable, mais que lon l’appelle irraisonnable quand le mouvement de l’appetit
est si puissant, qu’il demeure le maistre, et pousse l’homme à quelque chose
deshonneste, contre le jugement de la raison: car ils veulent que la passion mesme soit
raison, mais mauvaise, prenant sa force et vehemence d’un faux et pervers jugement,”
De la vertu morale, 31v E-F. Plutarch also derides the Stoic idea of ‘good passions’ or
eupathies, designed to explain equally awkward situations (awkward for Stoics, not
for Plutarch) when passion leads to virtuous behavior, « De la vertu morale, » 35v H-
36r A).
10
In the following passage the direct object of Plutarch’s phrase is the passionate part
of the soul (“la partie qui se courrouce, qui appéte, qui se deult, qui s’esjouie en
nous”).
Voyla pourquoy les anciens l’ont bien proprement appellee Ethos, qui est à
dire, les Meurs, pour nous donner grossement à entendre, que les meurs ne
sont aure chose, qu’une qualité imprimee de longue main en celle partie de
l’ame qui est irraisonnable, et est ainsi nommee par ce qu’elle prent celle
qualité de la demeure longue et longue accoustumance, estant formee par la
raison, laquelle n’en veult pas du tout oster ny desraciner la passion, par ce
qu’il n’est ny possible, ny utile, ains seulement luy trasse et limite quelques
bornes, et luy establit quelque ordre, faisant en sorte que les vertus morales ne
sont pas impassibilitez, mais plustost reglements et moderations des passions
et affections de nostre ame, ce qu’elle fait par le moien de la prudence,
laquelle reduit la puissance de la partie sensuelle et passible à une habitude
honeste et louable. (DVM 32v F-H my italics)
11
Randle Cotgrave, A Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues, Adam Islip
(London: 1611).
12
Ibid.
13
This is where David Quint and I see things differently. According to him
Montaigne elevates clemency to a moral absolute, a quality that should single-
handedly determine one’s behavior at all times. “The choice of pardon over revenge is
the moral and political touchstone of the Essais, to which all other issues—the nature
of nobility and valor, the will of the self to power and autonomy and its relationship to
others, the quest for Stoic philosophical mastery versus the acceptance and embrace
of human limitations and weakness—become ancillary, judged according to how they
will or will not result in a practice of clemency,” p. 41. It is worth noting that in “De
la vertu morale” Plutarch defines “clémence” as the mid-point between “indolence”
and “cruauté,” (33v E), and that Seneca gives a similar definition in his essay De la
clémence: “Une autre définition [de la clémence] trouvera des contradicteurs, bien
que ce soit la plus voisine de la vérité: la clémence, dirons nous, est un acte de
modération par lequel la peine méritée et due est remise partiellement,” (II, iii, 2, my
italics).
14
Mark Greengrass, Governing Passions: Peace and Reform in the French Kingdom,
1576-1585, Oxford University Press (Oxford: 2007).
15
On the authority of Plutarch’s works among later sixteenth-century Neo-Stoics see
Denise Carabin’s Les Idées stoicïennes dans la littérature morale des XVIe
et XVIIe
siècles (1575-1642), Slatkine (Genève: 2004). Bernard de Girard, sieur du Haillan’s
Recueil d’advis et conseils sur les affaires d’estat, tiré des Vies de Plutarque (1578)
addresses the limited success of pursuing social reform through legislative action, and

21. 21
the subsequent importance of anchoring social reform in the reform of individual
morality. Cited in Greengrass, p. 262.