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"Carneades! who was he?" said Don Abbondio to himself, seated in

his large chair, with a book open before him. "Carneades! this

name I have either heard or read of; he must have been a man of

study, a scholar of antiquity; but who the devil was he?" Now, it

should be known, that it was Don Abbondio's custom to read a

little every day, and that a curate, his neighbour, who had a

small library, furnished him with books, one after the other, as

they came to hand. That with which he was at this moment engaged,

was a panegyric on St. Carlos, delivered many years before in the

cathedral of Milan. The saint was there compared for his love of

study to Archimedes; which comparison the poor curate well

understood, inasmuch as this did not require, from the various

anecdotes related of him, an erudition very extensive. But the

author went on to liken him also to Carneades, and here the poor

reader was at fault. At this moment, Perpetua announced the visit

of Tony.