I have italicized pernoctant because it is that word which demonstrates beyond all possibility of doubt that Cicero made a practice of reading in bed.  Why, I can almost see him now, propped up in his couch, unrolling scroll after scroll of his favorite literature, and enjoying it mightily, too, which enjoyment is interrupted now and then by the occasion which the noble reader takes to mutter maledictions upon the slave who has let the lamp run low of oil or has neglected to trim the wick.

``Peregrinantur?’’ Indeed, they do share our peregrinations, these literary pursuits do.  If Thomas Hearne (of blessed memory!) were alive to-day he would tell us that he used always to take a book along with him whenever he went walking, and was wont to read it as he strolled along.  On several occasions (as he tells us in his diary) he became so absorbed in his reading that he missed his way and darkness came upon him before he knew it.

I have always wondered why book-lovers have not had more to say of Hearne, for assuredly he was as glorious a collector as ever felt the divine fire glow within him.  His character is exemplified in this prayer, which is preserved among other papers of his in the Bodleian Library: 

``O most gracious and merciful Lord God, wonderful is Thy providence.  I return all possible thanks to Thee for the care Thou hast always taken of me.  I continually meet with most signal instances of this Thy providence, and one act yesterday, when I unexpectedly met with three old MSS., for which, in a particular manner, I return my thanks, beseeching Thee to continue the same protection to me, a poor, helpless sinner,’’ etc.

Another prayer of Hearne’s, illustrative of his faith in dependence upon Divine counsel, was made at the time Hearne was importuned by Dr. Bray, commissary to my Lord Bishop of London, ``to go to Mary-Land’’ in the character of a missionary. ``O Lord God, Heavenly Father, look down upon me with pity,’’ cries this pious soul, ``and be pleased to be my guide, now I am importuned to leave the place where I have been educated in the university.  And of Thy great goodness I humbly desire Thee to signify to me what is most proper for me to do in this affair.’’

Another famous man who made a practice of reading books as he walked the highways was Dr. Johnson, and it is recorded that he presented a curious spectacle indeed, for his shortsightedness compelled him to hold the volume close to his nose, and he shuffled along, rather than walked, stepping high over shadows and stumbling over sticks and stones.

But, perhaps, the most interesting story illustrative of the practice of carrying one’s reading around with one is that which is told of Professor Porson, the Greek scholar.  This human monument of learning happened to be travelling in the same coach with a coxcomb who sought to air his pretended learning by quotations from the ancients.  At last old Porson asked: