IDLuDer a Bogwoob witb /IDontatGue 



pecting to find there the soHtary man's 

 love of nature; but Montaigne's curiosity- 

 was about humanity. He brooded over 

 the records and vestiges, tracking traits 

 and taking character unawares. An in- 

 veterate closet student, not a scholar, a 

 lover of books and book-lore, there is not 

 in all literature a more engaging pedant, 

 nor is there a more enticing bit of descrip- 

 tion than his light and free sketch of the 

 room in which he studied and wrote. It 

 was a high place, on the third floor of a 

 tower, overlooking a wide landscape. Be- 

 low was the main entrance to the chateau ; 

 the garden and the courtyard were in view, 

 as well as nearly every part of the house ; 

 and he took great delight in the situation 

 on account of the difficulty of climbing up 

 to it. Speaking of the library, he said: 

 ** There I pass most of my days ; there 

 most hours of every day." 



He speaks of books as his most faithful 

 friends, and he had many : five rows of 

 shelves all around the circular room — 

 which was sixteen paces in diameter — 

 were filled with them. The wall had but 

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