was content to remain where and as he was.
The grand-duke was so anxious to preserve
Magliabechi's life by all possible luxuries,
that, as the librarian advanced in age, he
caused rooms to be fitted up in the palace
for his use. But Magliabechi could not
endure these unwonted comforts, and after
four months' residence returned to his own
little house, where he would keep no
servant. However, his friends insisted,
when, in 1708, Magliabechi had lain ill
and alone, on his keeping an attendant;
but he in so far persisted in his old habits,
that he dismissed the servant every evening
at candlelight, the time above all
other when he most needed supervision.
All these various peculiarities of his must
have been tolerably remarkable, since
they induced the German tourist, Keysler,
who resided at Florence in 1730, and who
knew them only by the hearsay of survivors,
to assert that if a list were published of
learned and ingenious slovens, Magliabechi
would undoubtedly be entitled to the first
place. His modesty and indifference to the
public opinion of him were astonishing.
When he received a letter containing flattering
encomiums, he would hide these from
his friends, imparting only the matters of
general interest. When the Queen of
Prussia demanded his portrait, which she
wished to hang together with those of other
learned men, he refused to comply with her
request. On her insisting, and applying
to the grand-duke, he still remained firm
in his refusal, and at last it was only by
stratagem that Dandini was enabled to
execute a likeness, and thus to obey the royal
command. When informed that he had been
outwitted, he did not even ask to see the
picture. Neither could he be persuaded to
look at a silver medal which the grand-
duke had caused to be struck for the queen,
and which the artist, Hieronymus Ticcati,
had also been forced to execute secretly.
From this medal a small one was taken,
which has preserved to posterity several
likenesses of this remarkable being. The
obverse gives his bust, the reverse shows
him seated in a little garden adjoining his
house, where on summer evenings he loved
to meet his friends, a book in his hand,
while from a distance Diogenes is seen
approaching. The inscription refers to
his splendid memory, being the words of
the Roman orator: "Scire nostrum
reminisci."

The lot of Magliabechi was certainly cast
in pleasant places, as we shall see when
we glance at the time when this erudite
"Glutton of Literature" (as he was often
named) flourished.

Cosmo the Third was then reigning over
the duchy of Tuscany. A descendant of
the grand and noble family De' Medicis, he
inherited, together with their name, their
love for all the elegant arts, sciences, and
refinements of life. Living at a time when
Europe and, above all, Italy had revived
from the influence of long centuries of
barbarism, the Medicis did all in their power
to conduce to the growth of intellectual
pursuits by example, encouragement, and
patronage. Cosmo, though by no means a
worthy representative of their name,
conformed to the traditions of his ancestors,
and certainly approved himself an efficient
patron, although he was utterly inefficient
as a ruler. At his court flourished
Magalotti the physician, Bellini the anatomist,
Viviani the mathematician, Filicaja the
Italian Pindar, Micheli the Linnæus of his
time, Cardinal Noris the antiquarian, and
Redi the naturalist. Among this brilliant
assemblage Magliabechi "qui savait tout"
was not the least brilliant ornament.

One would not have supposed that any
one leading so quiet, retired, and inoffensive
a life as this man, could have had an
implacable enemy. But so it was, and the
person, whoever he might have been,
several times circulated some calumnies
about Magliabechi's manner of life which
might have done him great harm with the
court, had not his friends used all their
power to refute them. He did not bestir
himself in the matter, excepting that once,
when these reports exceeded all bounds, he
declared he was willing to quit Florence
and seek a home elsewhere. But his friends
persuaded him to remain, and the matter
was forgotten.

Early in January, 1714, when just going
out of his house, he was seized with violent
trembling and weakness, and from that
moment never became himself again. He
languished for three months, and died in
the following April, in the eighty-first year
of his age. His vast library he bequeathed
to the grand-duke, together with his
fortune. The latter was to be employed for
the maintenance of the library and the
purchase of additions. The library was
placed in the Palazzo degli Uffizi, and was
augmented by the Chevalier François
Manni, opened to the public, and further
enriched by the Emperor Francis the First
and by the Grand-Duke Leopold, who
united to it the Medicea Lotaringa library
of his palace. It was supplied with new