holy man should not bring thieves and robbers in his company. With
these words, and with others of a violent and libellous character,
he recovered the "History of the Council of Trent," and kicked out
the future Pope. Amelot de la Houssaie traces to this incident the
hatred borne by Innocent X. to the Crown and the people of France.
Another Pope, while only a cardinal, stole a book from Menage--so M.
Janin reports--but we have not been able to discover Menage's own
account of the larceny. The anecdotist is not so truthful that
cardinals need flush a deeper scarlet, like the roses in Bion's
"Lament for Adonis," on account of a scandal resting on the
authority of Menage. Among Royal persons, Catherine de Medici,
according to Brantome, was a biblioklept. "The Marshal Strozzi had
a very fine library, and after his death the Queen-Mother seized it,
promising some day to pay the value to his son, who never got a
farthing of the money." The Ptolemies, too, were thieves on a large
scale. A department of the Alexandrian Library was called "The
Books from the Ships," and was filled with rare volumes stolen from
passengers in vessels that touched at the port. True, the owners
were given copies of their ancient MSS., but the exchange, as
Aristotle says, was an "involuntary" one, and not distinct from
robbery.

The great pattern of biblioklepts, a man who carried his passion to
the most regrettable excesses, was a Spanish priest, Don Vincente,
of the convent of Pobla, in Aragon. When the Spanish revolution
despoiled the convent libraries, Don Vincente established himself at
Barcelona, under the pillars of Los Encantes, where are the stalls
of the merchants of bric-a-brac and the seats of them that sell
books. In a gloomy den the Don stored up treasures which he hated
to sell. Once he was present at an auction where he was out-bid in