their repositories. And surely next to the vestments and
vessels dedicated to the Lord's body, holy books deserve to be rightly
treated by the clergy, to which great injury is done so often as they
are touched by unclean hands. Wherefore we deem it expedient to warn
our students of various negligences, which might always be easily
avoided and do wonderful harm to books.

And in the first place as to the opening and closing of books, let
there be due moderation, that they be not unclasped in precipitate
haste, nor when we have finished our inspection be put away without
being duly closed. For it behoves us to guard a book much more
carefully than a boot.

But the race of scholars is commonly badly brought up, and unless they
are bridled in by the rules of their elders they indulge in infinite
puerilities. They behave with petulance, and are puffed up with
presumption, judging of everything as if they were certain, though they
are altogether inexperienced.

You may happen to see some headstrong youth lazily lounging over his
studies, and when the winter's frost is sharp, his nose running from
the nipping cold drips down, nor does he think of wiping it with his
pocket-handkerchief until he has bedewed the book before him with the
ugly moisture. Would that he had before him no book, but a cobbler's
apron! His nails are stuffed with fetid filth as black as jet, with
which he marks any passage that pleases him. He distributes a
multitude of straws, which he inserts to stick out in different places,
so that the halm may remind him of what his memory cannot retain.
These straws, because the book has no stomach to digest them, and no
one takes them out, first distend the book from its wonted closing, and
at length, being carelessly abandoned to oblivion, go to decay. He
does not fear to eat fruit or cheese over an open book, or carelessly
to carry a cup to and from his mouth; and because he has no wallet at
hand he drops into books the fragments that are left. Continually
chattering, he is never weary of disputing with his companions, and
while he alleges a crowd of senseless arguments, he wets the book lying
half open in his lap with sputtering showers. Aye, and then hastily
folding his arms he leans forward on the book, and by a brief spell of
study invites a prolonged nap; and then, by way of mending the
wrinkles, he folds back the margin of the leaves, to the no small
injury of the book. Now the rain is over an