第5部分(第3/7 頁)

y　meal　（of　course　my　dinner）　at　a　coffee…shop　in　Oxford　Street；　one　of　the　real　old　coffee…shops；　such　as　now；　I　suppose；　can　hardly　be　found。　Sixpence　was　all　I　had……yes；　all　I　had　in　the　world；　it　would　purchase　a　plate　of　meat　and　vegetables。　But　I　did　not　dare　to　hope　that　the　Tibullus　would　wait　until　the　morrow；　when　a　certain　small　sum　fell　due　to　me。　I　paced　the　pavement；　fingering　the　coppers　in　my　pocket；　eyeing　the　stall；　two　appetites　at　bat　within　me。　The　book　was　bought　and　I　went　home　with　it；　and　as　I　made　a　dinner　of　bread　and　butter　I　gloated　over　the　pages。

In　this　Tibullus　I　found　pencilled　on　the　last　page：　〃Perlegi；　Oct。　4；　1792。〃　Who　was　that　possessor　of　the　book；　nearly　a　hundred　years　ago？　There　was　no　other　inscription。　I　like　to　imagine　some　poor　scholar；　poor　and　eager　as　I　myself；　who　bought　the　volume　with　drops　of　his　blood；　and　enjoyed　the　reading　of　it　even　as　I　did。　How　much　THAT　was　I　could　not　easily　say。　Gentle…hearted　Tibullus！…　…of　whom　there　remains　to　us　a　poet's　portrait　more　delightful；　I　think；　than　anything　of　the　kind　in　Roman　literature。

An　tacitum　silvas　inter　reptare　salubres；　Curantem　quidquid　dignum　sapiente　bonoque　est？

So　with　many　another　book　on　the　thronged　shelves。　To　take　them　down　is　to　recall；　how　vividly；　a　struggle　and　a　triumph。　In　those　days　money　represented　nothing　to　me；　nothing　I　cared　to　think　about；　but　the　acquisition　of　books。　There　were　books　of　which　I　had　passionate　need；　books　more　necessary　to　me　than　bodily　nourishment。　I　could　see　them；　of　course；　at　the　British　Museum；　but　that　was　not　at　all　the　same　thing　as　having　and　holding　them；　my　own　property；　on　my　own　shelf。　Now　and　then　I　have　bought　a　volume　of　the　raggedest　and　wretchedest　aspect；　dishonoured　with　foolish　s