house, where the friend of the Muses sits among the
learned doctors. An illustration shows Gafori sitting at his organ and
the musicians with their wind-instruments at the end of the lofty hall.
Gafori himself, in another preface, declares that his musical offspring
can hardly be kept at home; they used to be too shy to go out, though all
the musicians were awaiting them; now that they have Grolier's patronage
they are all as bold as brass, and ready to rush through any danger to
salute their generous friend. The history of the copy presented to
Grolier is not without interest. After the great musician's death the
treasurer gave it to Albisse, one of the King's secretaries: Albisse in
1546 gave it to Rasse de Neux, a surgeon at Paris, who was devoted to
curious books; in 1674 it entered the library of St. Germain-des-Pres,
and was nearly destroyed more than a century afterwards in a great fire.
During the Revolution it was added to the collection at the Convent des
Celestins, and was afterwards deposited in the Bibliotheque de l'Arsenal,
where we suppose that it still remains.
Grolier was fond of giving books to his friends. A commentary on the
Psalms with his name and device, now in the National Library at Paris,
bears an inscription showing that he had given it to a monk named Jacques
Guyard. He presented a fine copy of Marcus Aurelius to his friend Eurialo
Silvestri; and there are volumes bearing his name in conjunction with
those of Maioli and Laurinus which indicate similar gifts. He is known to
have presented several volumes to the President de Thou as a mark of
gratitude for assistance during his later troubles. It is somewhat
singular that Jacques-Auguste de Thou never succeeded in getting
possession of these books, though they had always been kept in his
father's library; and they were not, indeed, replaced in the 'Bibliotheca
Thuana' until it had become the property of the Cardinal de Rohan. It is
interesting to learn that a volume of Cicero was given by Grolier to the
artistic printer, Geoffroy Tory of Bourges, who designed the lettering of
his mottoes: they were of an antique or 'Roman' shape, and were in two
sizes, and proportioned, as we are told, 'in the same ratio to each other
as the body and face of a man.' Geoffroy Tory mentioned them in a letter
of the year 1523. 'It was on the morrow of the Epiphany,' says the
light-hearted artist, 'that after my slumbers were over, and in
consciousness of a joyous
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