ginta duos libros_, for the sum of fifty pounds of
silver _quinginta libris argenti_.[196] But there were other bibliophiles
and bookworms than Richard de Bury in old England then; for many of the
brothers of St. Alban's who had nothing to do with this transaction,
cried out loudly against it, and denounced rather openly the policy of
sacrificing their mental treasures for the acquisition of pecuniary gain,
but fortunately the loss was only a temporary one, for on the death of
Richard de Bury many of these volumes were restored to the monks, who in
return became the purchasers from his executors of many a rare old
volume from the bishop's library.[197] To resume our extracts from the
Philobiblon, De Bury proceeds to further particulars relative to his
book-collecting career, and becomes quite eloquent in detailing these
circumstances; but from the eighth chapter we shall content ourselves
with one more paragraph. "Moreover," says he, "if we could have amassed
cups of gold and silver, excellent horses, or no mean sums of money, we
could in those days have laid up abundance of wealth for ourselves. But
we regarded books not pounds, and valued codices more than florens, and
preferred paltry pamphlets to pampered palfreys.[198] In addition to this
we were charged with frequent embassies of the said prince of everlasting
memory, and owing to the multiplicity of state affairs, we were sent
first to the Roman chair, then to the court of France, then to the
various other kingdoms of the world, on tedious embassies and in perilous
times, carrying about with us that fondness for books, which many waters
could not extinguish."[199] The booksellers found Richard de Bury a
generous and profitable customer, and those residing abroad received
commissions constantly from him. "Besides the opportunities," he writes,
"already touched upon, we easily acquired the notice of the stationers
and librarians, not only within the provinces of our native soil, but of
those dispersed over the kingdoms of France, Germany, and Italy."[200]

Such was bibliomania five hundred years ago! and does not the reader
behold in it the very type and personification of its existence now? does
he not see in Richard de Bury the prototype of a much honored and
agreeable bibliophile of our own time? Nor has the renowned "Maister
Dibdin" described his book-hunting tours with more enthusiasm or delight;
with what a thrill of rapture would that worthy doctor have explor