♦His literary tastes.♦ His chief recreation now, as in his most difficult campaigns, was the study of the sciences. He complains to the queen, after the battle of Vienna, that with all his love of reading he has not had a book in his hand for more than three weeks.[132] When he read he always had a pencil in his hand, and his marginal notes displayed uncommon powers of mind. Dr. South--no mean judge--pronounces him to be “very opulently stored with all polite and scholastical learning.” He was fond of writing Polish poetry, and when his daughter Theresa married the Elector of Bavaria he presented her with a copy of verses on the event.[133] Like many others of the Slav race, he was an accomplished linguist. He could converse with ease in six languages, including Latin,[134] and learnt Spanish when he was past fifty. His delight was to assemble around him cultivated men like Father Vota, the French Ambassador Cardinal Polignac, and his physicians, Connor and Jonas, and to “set them very artfully by the ears”[135] on some question of philosophy or natural science.[136] Nor was theology forgotten. He used to give audiences to the schismatic bishops, and listen patiently to their arguments for their respective creeds. ♦Patron of learning.♦ Such a prince was of course an ardent patron of learning. During his reign more books issued from the Polish press than in the two centuries preceding; and his liberal views led him to reprimand the Catholic clergy for not admitting into their schools the philosophy of Descartes. ♦Spite of the nobles.♦ The great nobles, many of them wholly unlettered, could not sympathise with these literary tastes, and they showed their spite towards the king in various ways. On one occasion, when illness kept him away from the Diet, the Sapiehas demanded that he should be summoned to attend; and when their motion was lost, they broke up the assembly with the veto. A Jew named Bethsal, who collected his revenues, was condemned to death by the Diet on an unproved charge of sacrilege,[137] and John could hardly prevail to save his life. ♦Charge of covetousness unproved.♦ Many imputed his love of retirement to covetousness, and asserted that he laid up £100,000 a year for the benefit of his sons.[138] The accusation has been often repeated, although his life abounds in instances of his draining his private[139] coffers to serve a pressing public need.