honouring his
habitation, at the same time lamenting that he was not one of their
party. "Repair," he said, "often to the same retreat. Make use of my
books, which deplore the absence of their owner, and the death of their
keeper" (he alluded to his old servant). "My country-house is the temple
of peace, and the home of repose."

From the contents of his letter, on this occasion, it is obvious that he
had not yet found any spot in Italy where he could determine on fixing
himself permanently; otherwise he would not have left his books behind
him.

When he wrote about his books, he was little aware of the danger that
was impending over them. On Christmas day a troop of robbers, who had
for some time infested the neighbourhood of Vaucluse, set fire to the
poet's house, after having taken away everything that they could carry
off. An ancient vault stopped the conflagration, and saved the mansion
from being entirely consumed by the flames. Luckily, the person to whose
care he had left his house--the son of the worthy rustic, lately
deceased--having a presentiment of the robbery, had conveyed to the
castle a great many books which Petrarch left behind him; and the
robbers, believing that there were persons in the castle to defend it,
had not the courage to make an attack.

As Petrarch grew old, we do not find him improve in consistency. In his
letter, dated the 21st of October, 1353, it is evident that he had a
return of his hankering after Vaucluse. He accordingly wrote to his
friends, requesting that they would procure him an establishment in the
Comtat. Socrates, upon this, immediately communicated with the Bishop of
Cavaillon, who did all that he could to obtain for the poet the object
of his wish. It appears that the Bishop endeavoured to get for him a
good benefice in his own diocese. The thing was never accomplished.
Without doubt, the enemies, whom he had excited by writing freely about
the Church, and who were very numerous at Avignon, frustrated his
wishes.

After some time Petrarch received a letter from the Emperor Charles IV.
in answer to one which the poet had expedited to him about three years
before. Our poet, of course, did not fail to acknowledge his Imperial
Majesty's late-coming letter. He commences his reply with a piece of
pleasantry: "I see very well," he says, "that it is as difficult for
your Imperial Majesty's despatches and couriers to cross the Alps, as it
is for your person and legions." He w