Book the Second

Montaigne poses the central problem: human actions so frequently contradict one another that it seems impossible they proceed from the same person. He illustrates this with historical examples like Marius, Pope Boniface VIII, and Nero, and notes that irresolution appears to be humanity's most common vice.

Montaigne criticizes those who attempt to construct a unified character from a person's actions. They select a 'general air' and force all actions into conformity with it, attributing contradictions to dissimulation rather than recognizing natural human variability.

Montaigne argues that it is extremely rare for anyone to form their entire life according to one constant course, which would be wisdom's principal design. True constancy requires willing the same thing always, and vice cannot be constant by its very nature.

Montaigne describes how human beings naturally follow the inclinations of appetite rather than reason. We change our minds moment to moment, like chameleons taking color from whatever we are laid upon, never meditating on what we truly desire until the moment of desire itself.

Montaigne suggests that chance has great dominion over human beings because we live by chance. Without a designed life's course, it is impossible to arrange the pieces. He compares this to an archer who must know his target before adjusting his aim.

Some philosophers have theorized that the contradictions in human nature suggest we have two souls or two opposing powers, one toward good and one toward evil. Montaigne acknowledges this theory but moves beyond it to analyze his own experience.

Montaigne applies his theory to himself, showing that he contains all contraries—bashful and insolent, chaste and lustful, lazy and industrious. He finds 'distinguo' (I distinguish) to be the most universal principle of his logic because he cannot speak of himself entirely and simply.

A single gallant action does not make a man virtuous; true virtue would be habitual and consistent across all circumstances. The same man might charge into battle bravely yet torment himself over small losses, showing that the action is commendable but the man is not inherently virtuous.

Even Alexander the Great, despite extreme courage in war, shows signs of inconsistency: he is frequently suspicious of conspiracies, superstitious, and excessively penitent for the murder of Clytus. His virtue, while remarkable, is incomplete and not universal.

Montaigne argues that constancy can only stand firm upon its proper base when 'the way of his life is thoroughly considered and traced out.' Without such a design, variety of occurrences will cause a person to alter their pace, running before the wind without direction.

Rather than making universal judgments about character from limited evidence, Montaigne advocates examining people 'bit by bit' in detail. He illustrates this with the story of the woman who jumped from a window to avoid rape but was later found to be unchaste.

Montaigne demonstrates through examples (Antigonus's soldiers, Lucullus's soldier) that what appears to be virtue is often merely the product of external circumstances. Remove the circumstances, and the apparent virtue disappears, showing it was never internalized.