nature or fortune, none is so dear to me as he is. I know that you love him as your son. You have taken him from me. I am consoled. I rejoice, nay, I glory, in a brother worthy to serve Jesus Christ in your holy family. This has inspired me with confidence towards you. The prior of the carthusians at Milan, who will present you with my letter and my homage, will confirm my affectionate sentiments for you and your order.3/

John Birel, in his answer to Petrarch, repri mands him severely for the praises he had given him; saying, that it was not right to praise any one to their face. He exhorts Petrarch toemploy the great talents God had given him in works on morals and devotion; and, in particular, desired he would write a treatise on the dignity of human nature, which pope Innocent III. had promised to the world when he published his treatise on the misery of man.07

Petrarch, after justifying himself for the praises he had bestowed, by the examples of the greatest saints, Augustin, Jerom, Ambrose, &c. says, 'I could make you the same reproaches with much better foundation. I neither claim nor merit the praises you have bestowed on my genius. You desire me to make good the promises of others, who have not time to fulfil my own. Perhaps, also, it was a subject too difficult for the great pope, and what then will it be for me? In

nocent III. was one of the wisest men of his age, and did honour to the holy see. He knew that human misery was an extensive, and human felicity a short and delicate subject.

4

I am engaged in a treatise on the remedies of good and bad fortune, in which I try to suppress, or extirpate, if possible, the passions of the soul. I was in the chapter of grief and misery when I received your letter. I apprehend that the malady of the soul called grief, can only be cured by the subject of joy we are furnished with from the dignity of human nature. One would have imagined you knew what I was about when you wrote, and that you meant your letter as a spur; it is certain I am animated by it. The honour of your notice, and the pleasure of obeying your commands, shall inspire me with courage; and if I cannot treat the subject in particular as you desire, you will accept it as considered more generally in the treatise I have mentioned.' J The correspondence of Petrarch with John Birel was short. This general of the carthusians died soon after, with the highest reputation for his piety and good works.

Petrarch had an inflammation in his leg while he was at Linterno, occasioned by a large volume of Cicero's epistles falling on it as he was reaching it down, and this happened more than once. "I could not help,' says he, asking Cicero, with

a smile, Why do you strike the man who loves you so much?' His leg was so bad through neglect, that advice was sent for, and the physicians thought it must be cut off; but by rest and fomentations he recovered. It is singular,' adds Petrarch, that from my childhood, the accidents I have met with have always chosen this leg; which have made one of my servants call it pleasantly, the leg of ill fortune. In reality, these are motives to believe in fate; and why not, if by this word we understand providence?'

As soon as he recovered, Petrarch took a little journey to Bergamo, eight leagues from Milan. The occasion of it was this. There was in that city a goldsmith of excellent skill in his trade: he was born with a lively genius, and would have made a great progress in letters, if he had applied to them early; but he was somewhat advanced in life when this humor took hold of him. It soon absorbed his whole attention, and caused him to neglect his trade. Struck with the renown of Petrarch, he was determined, whatever it cost him, to become acquainted with so great a man, and to merit his esteem. He tried several methods to introduce himself, and at last succeeded. It would have been barbarous,' says Petrarch, to have refused him what cost me so little, and delighted him so much.' The favourable reception that Petrarch gave him, quite turned

his head: his joy was expressed in his countenance, gait, and gestures. He spent a great part of his fortune in having the name and arms of Petrarch either chased, carved, or inlaid, upon every thing in his house; and, at a great expense, he got all his writings copied: for Petrarch had given to his ardent entreaties what he had denied the greatest princes. By degrees, he intirely changed his character and manner of life, and abandoned his trade, which was a very profitable

one.

Petrarch repeatedly told him it was too late to devote himself to study, and that he ought on no account to quit his business. Obedient to his advice on every other subject, and listening to him as an oracle, he would not be persuaded in this matter to alter his resolution, but shut up his shop, and spent all his time in the schools of the professors, in which that city abounded.

He was passionately desirous that Petrarch should visit him at Bergamo. One day only,' said he, would he honour my house with his presence, it would be my glory and felicity for ages.' Petrarch kept him in suspense for some years; but at last, moved with his earnest supplications, and the pleasure he felt in bestowing happiness, he went to Bergamo; though some of his friends were against it, and thought it would be demeaning himself. The jeweller, whose name

was Henry Copra, came to fetch him; and, that he might be amused upon the road, he brought with him some men of genius, whose conversation might be agreeable to him. Some of Petrarch's friends followed, curious to observe the event of this singular visit. When they came to Bergamo, the governor, commanding officer, and principal people of the city, came out to meet Petrarch, and rendered him the greatest honours. They would have lodged him in the city hotel, or some palace. The goldsmith was terrified lest he should not be preferred. But he was unjust to Petrarch, who was faithful to his promise, and went, with the friends who followed him to his house. He had made vast preparations: the house was magnificently decorated, the chamber destined to Petrarch hung with purple, the bed gilt, and the banquet was a royal one. His library was more like a scholar's devoted to letters, than a tradesman's, who had spent his life in a shop.

Petrarch went away the next day, satiated with honours and good things. Never was a host so delighted with his guest: his joy was so immoderate, that his relations feared he would fall sick, or turn fool. The governor and a great train accompanied Petrarch much further than he desired. The goldsmith would not quit him, and they were obliged at last to force him away.

Petrarch arrived that night at Linterno, where