Montaigne tells, with his quaint humour, that he was in
the habit of retiring to his bedroom in the tower so that he might rule
there undisturbed, and have a corner apart from what he curiously terms the
'conjugal, filial, and civil community.' And he expresses pity for the man
who is not able to 'hide himself' in the same way when the humour leads him
to do so.
It was in the room above, however, where he enjoyed to the full the
pleasures of contemplation and quietude. Here, he tells us, he had
installed his library, in what had previously been regarded as the most
useless part of his mansion. The position had certain advantages. 'I
can see beneath me my garden and my poultry-yard, and can look into the
principal parts of my house.' It appears from this that he was so much 'in
the clouds,' that he did not occasionally find satisfaction from peeping
through windows to see what others were doing. It is in this way that the
old writers reveal themselves, and they keep themselves in sympathy with
mankind by not affecting to be above the little weaknesses common to
humanity. Here Montaigne spent the greater part of his time, except in
winter, when he often found the library too draughty to be comfortable.
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