Multitudes of the books had the marks of libraries
all over the country. He had borrowed them and never found a convenient
opportunity of returning them. They clung to him like precedents to law.
Yet he was a holy man and preached admirable sermons, as I can bear
witness. And, if you press me on the point, I shall have to own that it
_is_ hard to part with a book you have come to love.
Indeed, the only sound rule about books is that adopted by the man who was
asked by a friend to lend him a certain volume. "I'm sorry," he said, "but
I can't." "Haven't you got it?" asked the other. "Yes, I've got it," he
said, "but I make it a rule never to lend books. You see, nobody ever
returns them. I know it is so from my own experience. Here, come with me."
And he led the way to his library. "There," said he, "four thousand
volumes. Every--one--of--'em--borrowed." No, never lend books. You can't
trust your dearest friend there. I know. Where is that _Gil Blas_ gone? Eh?
And that _Silvio Pellico_? And.... But why continue the list.
Pages:
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72