No More Learning

The plague, which still continued to infest Southern Europe in 1362, had
even in the preceding year deprived our poet of his beloved friend
Socrates, who died at Avignon. "He was," says Petrarch, "of all men the
dearest to my heart. His sentiments towards me never varied during an
acquaintance of thirty-one years. "

The plague and war rendered Italy at this time so disagreeable to
Petrarch, that he resolved on returning to Vaucluse. He, therefore, set
out from Padua for Milan, on the 10th of January, 1362, reckoning that
when the cold weather was over he might depart from the latter place on
his route to Avignon. But when he reached Milan, he found that the state
of the country would not permit him to proceed to the Alps.

The Emperor of Germany now sent Petrarch a third letter of invitation to
come and see him, which our poet promised to accept; but alleged that he
was prevented by the impossibility of getting a safe passage. Boccaccio,
hearing that Petrarch meditated a journey to the far North, was much
alarmed, and reproached him for his intention of dragging the Muses into
Sarmatia, when Italy was the true Parnassus.

In June, 1362, the plague, which had begun its ravages at Padua, chased
Petrarch from that place, and he took the resolution of establishing
himself at Venice, which it had not reached. The course of the
pestilence, like that of the cholera, was not general, but unaccountably
capricious. Villani says that it acted like hail, which will desolate
fields to the right and left, whilst it spares those in the middle. The
war had not permitted our poet to travel either to Avignon or into
Germany. The plague had driven him out of Milan and Padua. "I am not
flying from death," he said, "but seeking repose. "

Having resolved to repair to Venice, Petrarch as usual took his books
along with him.
From one of his letters to Boccaccio, it appears that it
was his intention to bestow his library on some religious community,
but, soon after his arrival at Venice, he conceived the idea of offering
this treasure to the Venetian Republic. He wrote to the Government that
he wished the blessed Evangelist, St. Mark, to be the heir of those
books, on condition that they should all be placed in safety, that they
should neither be sold nor separated, and that they should be sheltered
from fire and water, and carefully preserved for the use and amusement
of the learned and noble in Venice. He expressed his hopes, at the same
time, that the illustrious city would acquire other trusts of the same
kind for the good of the public, and that the citizens who loved their
country, the nobles above all, and even strangers, would follow his
example in bequeathing books to the church of St. Mark, which might one
day contain a great collection similar to those of the ancients.

The procurators of the church of St. Mark having offered to defray the
expense of lodging and preserving his library, the republic decreed that
our poet's offer did honour to the Venetian state. They assigned to
Petrarch for his own residence a large palace, called the Two Towers,
formerly belonging to the family of Molina. The mansion was very lofty,
and commanded a prospect of the harbour. Our poet took great pleasure in
this view, and describes it with vivid interest. "From this port," he
says, "I see vessels departing, which are as large as the house I
inhabit, and which have masts taller than its towers. These ships
resemble a mountain floating on the sea; they go to all parts of the
world amidst a thousand dangers; they carry our wines to the English,
our honey to the Scythians, our saffron, our oils, and our linen to the
Syrians, Armenians, Persians, and Arabians; and, wonderful to say,
convey our wood to the Greeks and Egyptians. From all these countries
they bring back in return articles of merchandise, which they diffuse
over all Europe. They go even as far as the Tanais. The navigation of
our seas does not extend farther north; but, when they have arrived
there, they quit their vessels, and travel on to trade with India and
China; and, after passing the Caucasus and the Ganges, they proceed as
far as the Eastern Ocean. "

It is natural to suppose that Petrarch took all proper precautions for
the presentation of his books; nevertheless, they are not now to be seen
at Venice.