"Cln&er a H)ogwoob wftb /DJontafgne 



" Essais," or rather the first two volumes, 

 followed eight years later by the complete 

 edition. 



Montaigne died on September 13, 1592. 

 Since then there has been scarcely a mo- 

 ment free of the busy scratching of a pen 

 setting down comment, criticism, notes, or 

 polemical attack, with the " Essais " for their 

 distinguished target; and it is, perhaps, 

 the highest compliment to Montaigne's 

 genius that we can truthfully say nothing 

 unpleasant about these moths as they dance 

 lightly or sluggishly in the fascinating 

 light of a flame so fickle and yet so strong. 



Yesterday I had an armful of books 

 beside me in a fragrant woodland nook 

 under a dogwood-tree. Overhead the 

 white flowers and green leaves made a 

 tent-roof of comforting quality, while I 

 read and considered, the birds meantime 

 dashing down upon me a desultory shower 

 of chirps, twitters, squeaks, and song-frag- 

 ments. Whenever I lifted my eyes a 

 wing sparkled near or far. Sand-lilies 

 shook their deUcate bells between the 

 tufts of wood-grass, 



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