From Essays After Montaigne
Scipio Aemelianus, after he had triumphed twice, and twice been Consull, went on a solemne legation, accompanied and attended on only with seven servants. It is reported that Homer had never any more than one servant, Plato three, and Zeno, chiefe of the Stoikes sect, none at all. Tiberius Gracchus, being then one of the principal men amongst the Romanes, and sent in commission about weightie matters of the common-wealth, was allotted but sixpence halfe-penie a day for his charges.
My wife and I recently spent five days visiting cousins of my mother's on the Massachusetts coast south of Boston. This family has been in that part of Massachusetts for more than 350 years, and they've had that house for about a century. That's as close as you can get to venerable in this country. The house was originally the annex to a hotel that no longer exists. It was purchased by a forebear of my grandfather's half-sister-in-law, and was inherited by her three living children (my grandfather's half-niece and nephews) when she passed away eight years ago. The house is fortuitously divided into three sections internally, each with its own kitchen, living room, bathroom, etc., and wrapped by a single spectacular porch. Each sibling takes one of the three sections for himself or herself and descendants (plus assorted guests, such as my wife and me) for the summer, rotating sections every year.
The house itself is impressive. It exudes Christopher Alexander's "quality without a name," providing a living, exceedingly attractive space for summertime visitors and their activities. A deep covered porch faces onto Cape Cod Bay, with broad, well-lit rooms opening onto the porch. And at the center of each section, there's a farmhouse kitchen. Nothing in the house--doors, windows, plumbing fixtures, or anything else--is standard, and nothing tries, to paraphrase Alexander, to convey anything to the outside world. Everything serves only to make the house an ideal summer beach home (with the exception of a few of the beds, which could be more comfortable). In some cases, this means using perfectly serviceable, if ancient, stoves and plumbing, and in other cases, it means modern touches like cable television, a microwave oven, hot and cold running water outdoors, and the most impressive collection of binoculars I've ever seen. The first impression is one of parsimony, but the more time you spend there, the more apparent is the house's deep, simple comfort.
But even more impressive than the house is the community that it defines. Just as Alexander would predict, the manifestation of the patterns that he has identified fosters a peaceful, vibrant life for those who live among them. There are few places I've ever been so at ease, and none that have involved so much family. Generations of parents, siblings, cousins, and in-laws gather throughout the summer, with only the smallest of conflicts and no genuine acrimony. Our first impression was that the people who came there were so much quieter and more sane than anyone else we've known. As we've gotten to know them better, we've discovered that's not entirely the case (though I dearly love all of the family that I've met there and am glad to have found them). Rather, it seems that the power of the house makes the interactions there so pleasant. The patterns of its construction and repair effortlessly accommodate the patterns of events for which the house is intended. Every time I've been there, I've been able to do as little or as much as I'd like. There are always just enough interested participants around for a game of Scrabble, cribbage, croquet, or bocce. There are walks to take, boats to row, and, just down the road, ice cream and fried seafood. And if you're so inclined, you can sit for as long as you'd like reading a book or staring at the ocean without being disturbed or thought antisocial. It's a communal environment that I've longed for without ever knowing it.
8:00:27 AM 
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