PROLOGUE
TO all the faithful of Christ to whom the
tenor of these presents may come, Richard
de Bury, by the divine mercy Bishop of Durham,
wisheth everlasting salvation in the Lord and
to present continually a pious memorial of himself
before God, alike in his lifetime and after his
death.
What shall I render unto the Lord for all His
benefits towards me? asks the most devout Psalmist,
an invincible King and first among the prophets; in
which most grateful question he approves himself a
willing thank-offerer, a multifarious debtor, and one
who wishes for a holier counsellor than himself:
agreeing with Aristotle, the chief of philosophers, who
shows (in the 3rd and 6th books of his Ethics) that
all action depends upon counsel.
And indeed if so wonderful a prophet, having a
fore-knowledge of divine secrets, wished so anxiously
to consider how he might gratefully repay the blessings
graciously bestowed, what can we fitly do, who
are but rude thanksgivers and most greedy receivers,
laden with infinite divine benefits? Assuredly we
ought with anxious deliberation and abundant
consideration, having first invoked the Sevenfold Spirit,
that it may burn in our musings as an illuminating
fire, fervently to prepare a way without hinderance,
that the bestower of all things may be cheerfully
worshipped in return for the gifts that He has bestowed,
that our neighbour may be relieved of his burden, and
that the guilt contracted by sinners every day may be
redeemed by the atonement of almsgiving.
Forewarned therefore through the admonition of
the Psalmist's devotion by Him who alone prevents
and perfects the goodwill of man, without Whom we
have no power even so much as to think, and Whose
gift we doubt not it is, if we have done anything
good, we have diligently inquired and considered in
our own heart as well as with others, what among the
good offices of various works of piety would most please
the Almighty, and would be more beneficial to the
Church Militant. And lo! there soon occurred to
our contemplation a host of unhappy, nay, rather of
elect scholars, in whom God the Creator and Nature
His handmaid planted the roots of excellent morals
and of famous sciences, but whom the poverty of
their circumstances so oppressed that before the frown
of adverse fortune the seeds of excellence, so fruitful
in the cultivated field of youth, not being watered by
the rain that they require, are forced to wither away.
Thus it happens that "bright virtue lurks buried in
obscurity," to use the words of Boethius, and burning
lights are not put under a bushel, but for want of oil
are utterly extinguished. Thus the field, so full of
flower in Spring, has withered up before harvest time;
thus wheat degenerates to tares, and vines into the
wild vines, and thus olives run into the wild olive;
the tender stems rot away altogether, and those who
might have grown up into strong pillars of the
Church, being endowed with the capacity of a subtle
intellect, abandon the schools of learning. With
poverty only as their stepmother, they are repelled
violently from the nectared cup of philosophy as soon
as they have tasted of it and have become more fiercely
thirsty by the very taste. Though fit for the liberal
arts and disposed to study the sacred writings alone,
being deprived of the aid of their friends, by a kind
of apostasy they return to the mechanical arts solely
to gain a livelihood, to the loss of the Church and
the degradation of the whole clergy. Thus Mother
Church conceiving sons is compelled to miscarry, nay,
some misshapen monster is born untimely from her
womb, and for lack of that little with which Nature
is contented, she loses excellent pupils, who might
afterwards become champions and athletes of the
faith. Alas, how suddenly the woof is cut, while the
hand of the weaver is beginning his work! Alas,
how the sun is eclipsed in the brightness of the dawn,
and the planet in its course is hurled backwards, and,
while it bears the nature and likeness of a star
suddenly drops and becomes a meteor! What more
piteous sight can the pious man behold? What can
more sharply stir the bowels of his pity? What can
more easily melt a heart hard as an anvil into hot
tears? On the other hand, let us recall from past
experience how much it has profited the whole
Christian commonwealth, not indeed to enervate
students with the delights of a Sardanapalus or the
riches of a Croesus, but rather to support them in
their poverty with the frugal means that become the
scholar. How many have we seen with our eyes,
how many have we read of in books, who, distinguished
by no pride of birth, and rejoicing in no rich inheritance,
but supported only by the piety of the good,
have made their way to apostolic chairs, have most
worthily presided over faithful subjects, have bent
the necks of the proud and lofty to the ecclesiastical
yoke and have extended further the liberties of the
Church!
Accordingly, having taken a survey of human
necessities in every direction, with a view to bestow
our charity upon them, our compassionate inclinations
have chosen to bear pious aid to this calamitous
class of men, in whom there is nevertheless such
hope of advantage to the Church, and to provide for
them, not only in respect of things necessary to
their support, but much more in respect of
the books so useful to their studies. To this end,
most acceptable in the sight of God, our attention
has long been unweariedly devoted. This ecstatic
love has carried us away so powerfully, that we have
resigned all thoughts of other earthly things, and have
given ourselves up to a passion for acquiring books.
That our intent and purpose, therefore, may be known
to posterity as well as to our contemporaries, and that
we may for ever stop the perverse tongues of gossipers
as far as we are concerned, we have published a little
treatise written in the lightest style of the moderns;
for it is ridiculous to find a slight matter treated of
in a pompous style. And this treatise (divided into
twenty chapters) will clear the love we have had for books
from the charge of excess, will expound the purpose
of our intense devotion, and will narrate more clearly
than light all the circumstances of our undertaking.
And because it principally treats of the love of books,
we have chosen, after the fashion of the ancient
Romans, fondly to name it by a Greek word,
Philobiblon.
