It is, therefore, a great pity to place books high up in a room
where heat of any kind is as it must rise to the top, and if sufficient to
be of comfort to the readers below, is certain to be hot enough above to
injure the bindings.
The surest way to preserve your books in health is to treat them as
you would your own children, who are sure to sicken if confined in an
atmosphere which is impure, too hot, too cold, too damp, or too dry.
It is just the same with the progeny of literature.
If any credence may be given to Monkish legends, books have sometimes
been preserved in this world, only to meet a desiccating fate in the
world to come. The story is probably an invention of the enemy to
throw discredit on the learning and ability of the preaching Friars,
an Order which was at constant war with the illiterate secular Clergy.
It runs thus:--"In the year 1439, two Minorite friars who had all their
lives collected books, died. In accordance with popular belief, they
were at once conducted before the heavenly tribunal to hear their doom,
taking with them two asses laden with books. At Heaven's gate the porter
demanded, `Whence came ye?' The Minorites replied `From a monastery of
St. Francis.' `Oh!' said the porter, `then St. Francis shall be your
judge.
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