I have a simple definition of wisdom. It consists of just seven words. I define wisdom as “the habit of seeing what is hidden.” It is a short, but highly demanding definition, which disqualifies most mindless rituals and educated nonsense. Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) never quite managed to define wisdom, but his writings interpreted it in a fashion that astonished his contemporaries. He would pass review not only to the hidden elements, but also to their long-term consequences. For twenty years, Montaigne wrote one essay after another without any planning, organisation or consistency. He handled subjects that he found intriguing, annoying, or controversial. In many instances, he confessed that he was writing mostly for himself because he wanted to clarify his ideas. Why did he devote thousands of hours to reading, researching and writing down his essays? Because he regarded the process as enjoyable and highly satisfying. Montaigne was immensely proud of his essays, even if they never enjoyed a large readership during Montaigne’s lifetime. He did not care because his principal objective was to acquire wisdom, not popularity. A day devoted to acquiring wisdom is a day well spent, said Montaigne. Every little piece of wisdom should be regarded as an investment that will bear fruit down the road. It is like a tree that will grow and deliver a load of delicious fruits each year. Montaigne’s wisdom is spread all over his essays, but more often than not, his conclusions will go further than the essay’s subject. Whether he is writing about literature, war, children’s education, or religion, Montaigne loves to philosophise, that is, to draw lessons of universal application. When we read his essays, we can witness Montaigne talk to himself in a reproachful but benevolent tone. One day, he says that “I am too lazy, too slow, I should be doing more,” and then another day he writes that “I do not need to do much. Living is more than enough.” Montaigne’s wisdom is rather chaotic because he was not a system builder like Aristotle (384-322 BC) or Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274). He just cared for his game of play and say, for his literary composition that should deliver him one worthy insight at the end of the day. Consistency was not Montaigne’s goal by any stretch of the imagination. Instead of worrying about coherence, he trudged ahead contentedly, building his literary output day by day. For Montaigne, errors and discrepancies carry little weight in the grand scheme of things. He took those for granted and regarded them as impossible to eradicate. Here is the link to the original article: https://johnvespasian.com/michel-de-montaigne-and-wisdom/