Among the rare old collections of manuscripts, that of the Sorbonne deserves honorable mention. In 1290 it included 1017 volumes. About that time a heroic socius simply calling himself "John," seeing so many volumes never taken off the shelves nor opened, owing to the want of a catalogue, set to the work, and made out one to the best of his abilities, assorting the books into a few general classes. He arranged the works in each class by the authors' names, and after the title he copied a few words of the commencement—a very useful proceeding. Generally the books in the convents were only lent to the brothers or other inmates of the house, or to some one of the order; but in the Sorbonne library the volumes were freely lent to all applicants on depositing somewhat more than the value of the work in gold, silver, or some more valuable book, the rule being Extraneo sub juramento-to an extern—under oath, (to return the work.)

We find the lending system in full vigor with most of the libraries either gratis or at a very trifling charge. Besides the catalogues, they possessed at the Sorbonne a registry for the lending department. In this registry were not only marked the opening words of the first page, but also those of the third, sometimes those of the last leaf but one, in order that, if the borrower was rogue enough to return a volume different from the one borrowed, he might be easily detected. It is a matter worth attention, the low prices set on books in common use by ordinary folk or by students. Tullius de Officiis, de Senectute et de Amicitia was valued at decem sols—say five pence sterling. Allowing even for the high value of money at the time in relation to that of our day, the price seems out of all proportion with the materials of the book and the time bestowed on the writing. Baron Tauchnitz at this moment would make the poorest student pay about half a florin for it, notwithstanding the aid of movable type and steam presses.

Some of the works in this register were distinguished by the word catenatus, (chained to its place,) others by deficit. Among books in this category were most of the Libri in Gallico. These were called romances, whatever the subject. Thus we find Romancium de Rosa, Romancium quod incipit Miserere mei, (one of the Seven Penitential Psalms;) Romancium de decem praeceptis, sine rigmo, et dicitur Gallice, (romance of the Ten Commandments unrhymed and issued in the French language;) Le libre roiaus (roiaulx, royal) de Vices et Virtus (sic): Incipit Ce sont li X commandemens.

From the year 1321 they began to bestow or sell numbers of the less important works, for the library had outgrown the calculated proportions, and such things as the students' cahiers (copy books) and old sermons only took up valuable space.

The learned Bishop of Durham bequeathed his valuable library to the university of Oxford in 1344; and actuated by the same good spirit, left directions that the books should be lent even as the works in the Sorbonne on receiving sufficient security.

Unprincipled Book Borrowers.

Many were the deplorable losses of valuable books incurred by lending but yet the practice was productive of too many and too great benefits to be discontinued. No one in our days, except a true bibliomaniac or the keeper of a circulating library, can enter into the sore feelings of abbot or rector of a university when the invaluable MS. was either lost or returned damaged. Such a heart-scald was inflicted on Peter called Monoculus, (one-eyed,) abbot of Clairvaux, when a book lent to a neighboring abbot was returned as wet as if it had been placed under a water-pipe. Observe the rascality of the messenger! He came by night, made a great bustle, turned off the attention of the unsuspicious librarian, got another volume instead, and departed at a very early hour to escape a perquisition. This was in 1187. In the next century the Abbot Philip, with feelings soured by such instances of want of principle, would not lend the tracts of St. Augustin, humbly and earnestly demanded. No; there they were—too large to be carried away. "His dear brother was welcome to send an accredited writer to make a copy."

Proprietors of valuable books became so chary from sad experience, that unless the messenger who came to borrow was provided with a good steed, he would not be entrusted with the treasure. This supposes some distance to separate lender from borrower.

Saint Louis and Charles the Wise were liberal in bestowing and lending. Borrowers, as has been their custom since the days of Job, were found frequently false in their vows, and after the reign of poor Charles VI., deficit was found in multiplied instances in the royal register after the names of works in request. So strong was the desire among lettered people to be the owners of valuable works that a certain learned monk was not considered above the temptation of what some lawyers have termed conveyancing. In a life of St. Bernard it is related that one day at Clairvaux he thus addressed three novices: "One of you will make his escape this night: let the others watch and not allow him to take away anything." Two fell asleep, the spirit of evil sitting very heavy on their eyelids. The third, who staid awake, saw about daybreak two giants enter, and place under the nostrils of one of the sleepers a roast fowl encircled by a serpent. Roused by the deluding smell, he got up, approached the library, forced open the door, and was about making off with some of the literary treasures. Being stopped by his fellow-students, he attempted to scale the wall, but being prevented and still remaining impenitent, he lost his reason, and continued in that state till be died.