corrupt all that they touch.

_Pet._ I have a good provision of books.

_Crit._ What does that matter, if your intellect cannot take them in? Do
you remember the Roman Sabinus who plumed himself on the learning of his
slaves? Some people think that they must know what is in their own books,
and say, when a new subject is started: 'I have a book about that in my
library!' They think that this is quite sufficient, just as if the book
were in their heads, and then they raise their eyebrows, and there is an
end of the subject.

_Pet._ I am overflowing with books.

_Crit._ Why don't you overflow with talent and eloquence? Ah! but these
things are not for sale, like books, and if they were I don't suppose
there would be many buyers, for books do make a covering for the walls,
but those other wares are only clothing for the soul, and are invisible
and therefore neglected.

_Pet._ I have books which help me in my studies.

_Crit._ Take care that they do not prove a hindrance. Many a general has
been beaten by having too many troops. If books came in like recruits one
would not turn them away, but would stow them in proper quarters, and use
the best of them, taking care not to bring up a force too soon which
would be more useful on another occasion.

_Pet._ I have a great variety of books.

_Crit._ A variety of paths will often deceive the traveller.

_Pet._ I have collected a number of fine books.

_Crit._ To gain glory by means of books you must not only possess them
but know them; their lodging must be in your brain and not on the
book-shelf.

_Pet._ I keep a few beautiful books.

_Crit._ Yes, you keep in irons a few prisoners, who, if they could escape
and talk, would have you indicted for wrongful imprisonment. But now
they lie groaning in their cells, and of this they ever complain, that an
idle and a greedy man is overflowing with the wealth that might have
sustained a multitude of starving scholars.'

Petrarch was in truth a careless custodian of his prisoners. He was too
ready to lend a book to a friend, and his generosity on one occasion
caused a serious loss to literature. The only known copy of a treatise by
Cicero was awaiting transcription in his library; but he allowed it to be
carried off by an old scholar in need of assistance: it was pledged in
some unknown quarter, and nothing was ever heard again of the precious
deposit.

He returned to Avignon in 1337, and made himself a quiet home at
Vauc